Terry is in the library, hunting material for a
dissertation upon the ancient unicorn, which ought to conclude with
the battle royal witnessed by Alice in Wonderland. The stuffed
department is numerous but in a bad way as to hair, and chiefly
consists of everybody's grandmother's old parrots and squirrels and
white rats. Then, every boy, who ever had a fit of birds' eggs or
butterflies, has sent in a collection, chiefly minus the lower
wings, and with volunteer specimens of moth; but luckily some give
leave to do what they please with them, so the magician is making
composition animals with the debris."
"Not really!"
"I made a feeble attempt with an admiral's wings and an orange tip,
but I was scouted. About four dilapidated ones make up a proper
specimen, and I can't think how it is all to be done in the time;
but really something fit to be seen is emerging. Terry is sorting
the coins, a pretty job, I should say; but felicity to him. But oh!
the industrial articles! There are all the regalia, carved out of
cherry-stones, and a patchwork quilt of 5000 bits of silk each no
bigger than a shilling.
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