Mary looked round on the odd, strange things she had never seen at
home, and which seemed to her to have a very uncanny look.
"Is your grandfather a fortune-teller?" whispered she to her new
friend.
"No," replied Margaret, in the same voice; "but you are not the
first as has taken him for such. He is only fond of such things as
most folks know nothing about."
"And do you know aught about them too?"
"I know a bit about some of the things grandfather is fond on; just
because he's fond on 'em, I tried to learn about them."
"What things are these?" said Mary, struck with the weird-looking
creatures that sprawled around the room in their roughly-made glass
cases.
But she was not prepared for the technical names, which Job Legh
pattered down on her ear, on which they fell like hail on a
skylight; and the strange language only bewildered her more than
ever. Margaret saw the state of the case, and came to the rescue.
"Look, Mary, at this horrid scorpion. He gave me such a fright: I
am all of a twitter yet when I think of it.
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