"It is a sort of penguin, I believe," said Ernest, "distinguished by the name of booby, and so stupid, that I knocked it down with a stick. It is web-footed, has a long narrow beak, a little curved downwards. I have preserved the head and neck for you to examine; it exactly resembles the penguin of my book of natural history."
I pointed out to him the advantages of study, and was making more inquiries about the form and habits of the bird, when my wife requested me to defer my catechism of natural history.
"Ernest has killed the bird," added she; "I received it; we shall eat it. What more would you have? Let the poor child have the pleasure of examining and tasting the cocoa-nuts."
"Very well," replied I, "Fritz must teach them how to open them; and we must not forget the little monkey, who has lost his mother's milk."
"I have tried him," cried Jack, "and he will eat nothing."
I told them he had not yet learnt to eat, and we must feed him with cocoa-nut milk till we could get something better. Jack generously offered all his share, but Ernest and Francis were anxious to taste the milk themselves.
"But the monkey must live," said Jack, petulantly.
"And so must we all," said mamma. "Supper is ready, and we will reserve the cocoa-nuts for dessert."
We sat down on the ground, and the supper was served on our gourd-rind service, which answered the purpose admirably. My impatient boys had broken the nuts, which they found excellent, and they made themselves spoons of the shell. Jack
