It has low tastes, and is not kind.  When I went there yesterday evening in the gloaming it had crept down and was trying to catch the little speckled fishes that play in the pool, and I had to clod it to make it go up the tree again and let them alone.  I wonder if that is what it is for?  Hasn’t it any heart?  Hasn’t it any compassion for those little creature?  Can it be that it was designed and manufactured for such ungentle work?  It has the look of it.  One of the clods took it back of the ear, and it used language.  It gave me a thrill, for it was the first time I had ever heard speech, except my own.  I did not understand the words, but they seemed expressive.

When I found it could talk I felt a new interest in it, for I love to talk; I talk, all day, and in my sleep, too, and I am very interesting, but if I had another to talk to I could be twice as interesting, and would never stop, if desired.

If this reptile is a man, it isn’t an it, is it?  That wouldn’t be grammatical, would it?  I think it would be he.  I think so.  In that case one would parse it thus:  nominative, he; dative, him; possessive, HIS’N.  Well, I will consider it a man and call it he until it turns out to be something else.  This will be handier than having so many uncertainties.

Next week Sunday.—­All the week I tagged around after him and tried to get acquainted.  I had to do the talking, because he was shy, but I didn’t mind it.  He seemed pleased to have me around, and I used the sociable “we” a good deal, because it seemed to flatter him to be included.

Wednesday.—­We are getting along very well indeed, now, and getting better and better acquainted.  He does not try to avoid me any more, which is a good sign, and shows that he likes to have me with him.  That pleases me, and I study to be useful to him in every way I can, so as to increase his regard.  During the last day or two I have taken all the work of naming things off his hands, and this has been a great relief to him, for he has no gift in that line, and is evidently very grateful.  He can’t think of a rational name to save him, but I do not let him see that I am aware of his defect.  Whenever a new creature comes along I name it before he has time to expose himself by an awkward silence.  In this way I have saved him many embarrassments.  I have no defect like this.  The minute I set eyes on an animal I know what it is.  I don’t have to reflect a moment; the right name comes out instantly, just as if it were an inspiration, as no doubt it is, for I am sure it wasn’t in me half a minute before.  I seem to know just by the shape of the creature and the way it acts what animal it is.