swallowed it."

"No, I shan't," said Tim, sniffing at his delicacy, while the black
watched him too, and kept on saying it was good.

"There, pitch it away," said Norman, "and come on and have a walk. I'd
as soon eat a worm."

By this time Tim had sniffed again and again, after which he very
cautiously bit a tiny piece off one end, hesitated, with his face
looking very peculiar before beginning to chew it, but bravely going on;
and directly after his face lit up just as his cousins were about to
explode with mirth, and he popped the rest of the larva into his mouth,
and held out his hand to the black for another.

"Oh! look at the nasty savage," cried Rifle. "You'll be ill and sick
after it."

"Shall I?" cried Tim, as with his black face expanding with delight
Shanter helped him to some more, and then held out one to Norman to
taste.

"I say," cried the latter, watching his cousin curiously, as he was
munching away fast; "they aren't good, are they?"

"No," said Rifle; "he's pretending, so as to cheat us into tasting the
disgusting things."

"But, Tim, are they good?"

"Horrid!" cried the boy, beginning on another. "Don't you touch 'em.--
Here, Shanter, more."

The black turned over those he had roasting, and went on picking out the
brownest, as he squatted on his heels before the fire, and holding them
out to Tim.

"Well, of all the nasty creatures I ever did see," said Norman, "you are
the worst, Tim."

He looked at the grub he held with ineffable disgust, and then sniffed
at it.

"You'll have to go to the stream with a tooth-brush, and clean your
teeth and mouth with sand."

He sniffed again, and looked at Tim, who just then popped a golden-brown
fellow into his mouth.

"Ugh!" ejaculated Rifle, but he took the one the black held out to him
on the stick point, smelt it cautiously, looking at Norman the while.

Then both smelt together, looking in each others eyes, Tim feasting away
steadily all the time.

"I say," said Norman; "they don't smell so very bad."

"No; not so very," replied Rifle.

"I say: I will if you will."

"What, taste this?"

"Yes."

"Get out. Think I'm going to turn savage because I've come to
Australia? Don't catch me feeding like a bird. You'll want to eat
snails next."

"Well," said Norman, "Frenchmen eat snails."

"So they do frogs. Let 'em."

"But this thing smells so nice. I say, Rifle, bite it and try."

"Bite it yourself."

Norman did, in a sl