Now, Tom," as if he was afraid of losing a moment; "you have been a dear boy to write to me every week; but there are so many questions which only word of mouth will answer, and I have stored up dozens of them! I want to know what a coral reef really looks like, and if you saw any trepangs upon them?
And what sort of strata is the gold really in?
And you saw one of those giant rays; I want a whole hour's talk about the fellow.

And--What an old babbler I am! talking to you when you should be talking to me.

Now begin.

Let us have the trepangs first.

Are they real Holothurians or not ?" And Tom began, and told for a full half-hour, interrupted then by some little comment of the old man's, which proved how prodigious was the memory within, imprisoned and forced to feed upon itself.
"You seem to know more about Australia than I do, father," said Tom at last.
"No, child; but Mary Armsworth, God bless her! comes down here almost every evening to read your letters to me; and she has been reading to me a book of Mrs.Lee's Adventures in Australia, which reads like a novel; delicious book--to me at least.