n ancestors. Her views have widened. She is
mostly thinner than the English farm cat--which is, they say, on account
of eating lizards.

English rats and English mice--we say "English" because everything which
isn't Australian in Australia, IS English (or British)--English rats and
English mice are either rare or non-existent in the bush; but the hut
cat has a wider range for game. She is always dragging in things which
are unknown in the halls of zoology; ugly, loathsome, crawling abortions
which have not been classified yet--and perhaps could not be.

The Australian zoologist ought to rake up some more dead languages, and
then go Out Back with a few bush cats.

The Australian bush cat has a nasty, unpleasant habit of dragging
a long, wriggling, horrid, black snake--she seems to prefer black
snakes--into a room where there are ladies, proudly laying it down in
a conspicuous place (usually in front of the exit), and then looking up
for approbation. She wonders, perhaps, why the visitors are in such a
hurry to leave.

Pussy doesn't approve of live snakes round the place, especially if
she has kittens; and if she finds a snake in the vicinity of her
progeny--well, it is bad for that particular serpent.

This brings recollections of a neighbour's cat who went out in the
scrub, one midsummer's day, and found a brown snake. Her name--the cat's
name--was Mary Ann. She got hold of the snake all right, just within an
inch of its head; but it got the rest of its length wound round her body
and squeezed about eight lives out of her. She had the presence of mind
to keep her hold; but it struck her that she was in a fix, and that if
she wanted to save her ninth life, it wouldn't be a bad idea to go home
for help. So she started home, snake and all.

The family were at dinner when Mary Ann came in, and, although she
stood on an open part of the floor, no one noticed her for a while. She
couldn't ask for help, for her mouth was too full of snake. By-and-bye
one of the girls glanced round, and then went over the table, with a
shriek, and out of the back door. The room was cleared very quickly. The
eldest boy got a long-handled shovel, and in another second would have
killed more cat than snake; but his father interfered. The father was
a shearer, and Mary Ann was a favourite cat with him. He got a pair of
shears from the shelf and deftly shore off the snake's head, and one
side of Mary Ann's whiskers. She didn't think it safe to