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“You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. " "Wretch!" cried Mrs. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy.
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