“Scholarship’s a fine thing,” said the bee-master, “and seeing foreign parts is a fine thing, and many’s the time I’ve wished for both.  I suppose that’s the same Egypt that’s in the Bible, sir?”

“Yes,” said I, “and the same river Nile that Moses was put on in the ark of bulrushes.”

“There’s no countries I’d like to see better than them Bible countries,” said Master Isaac, “and I’ve wished it more ever since that gentleman was here that gave that lecture in the school, with the Holy Land magic-lantern.  He’d been there himself, and he explained all the slides.  They were grand, some of ’em, when you got ’em straight and steady for a bit.  They’re an awkward thing to manage, is slides, sir, and the school-master he wasn’t much good at ’em, he said, and that young scoundrel Bob Furniss and another lad got in a hole below the platform and pulled the sheet.  But when you did get ’em, right side up, and the light as it should be, they were grand!  There was one they called the Wailing Place of the Jews, with every stone standing out as fair as the flags on this floor.  John Binder, the mason, was at my elbow when that came on, and he clapped his hands, and says he, ’Well, yon beats all!’ But the one for my choice, sir, was the Garden of Gethsemane by moonlight.  I’d only gone to the penny places, for I’m a good size and can look over most folks’ heads, but I thought I must see that a bit nearer, cost what it might.  So I found a shilling, and I says to the young fellow at the door (it was the pupil-teacher), ’I must go a bit nearer to yon.’  And he says, ’You’re not going into the reserved seats, Isaac?’ So I says, ’Don’t put yourself about, my lad, I shan’t interfere with the quality; but if half a day’s wage ’ll bring me nearer to the Garden of Gethsemane, I’m bound to go.’  And I went.  I didn’t intrude myself on nobody, though one gentleman was for making room for me at once, and twice over he offered me a seat beside him.  But I knew my manners, and I said, ‘Thank you, sir, I can see as I stand.’  And I did see right well, and kicked Bob Furniss too, which was good for all parties.  But I’d like to see the very places themselves, Master Jack.”

“So should I,” said I; “but I should like to go farther, all round the world, I think.  Do you know, Isaac, you wouldn’t believe what curious beasts there are in other countries, and what wonderful people and places!  Why, we’ve only got to ATH—­No. 135—­now; it leaves off at Athanagilde, a captain of the Spanish Goths—­he’s nobody, but there are such apes in that number!  The Mono—­there’s a picture of him, just like a man with a tail and horrid feet, who used to sit with the negro women when they were at work, and play with bits of paper; and a Quata, who used to be sent to the tavern for wine, and when the children pelted him he put down the wine and threw stones at them.  And there are pictures in all the numbers, of birds and ant-eaters and antelopes, and I don’t know what.  The Mono and the Quata live in the West Indies, I think.  You see, I think the A’s are rather good numbers; very likely, for there’s America, and Asia, and Africa, and Arabia, and Abyssinia, and there’ll be Australia before we come to the B’s.  Oh, Isaac!  I do wish I could go round the world!”