something, it caused him to rear up and fall back on
the plough and snort and strain and struggle till there was not a
stitch left on him but the winkers.

Now, if Dave was noted for one thing more than another it was for his
silence. He scarcely ever took the trouble to speak. He hated to be
asked a question, and mostly answered by nodding his head. Yet, though
he never seemed to practise, he could, when his blood was fairly up,
swear with distinction and effect. On this occasion he swore through
the whole afternoon without repeating himself.

Towards evening Joe took the reins and began to drive. He had n't gone
once around when, just as the horses approached a big dead tree that
had been left standing in the cultivation, he planted his left foot
heavily upon a Bathurst-burr that had been cut and left lying. It
clung to him. He hopped along on one leg, trying to kick it off; still
it clung to him. He fell down. The horses and the tree got mixed up,
and everything was confusion.

Dave abused Joe remorselessly. "Go on!" he howled, waving in the air a
fistful of grass and weeds which he had pulled from the nose of the
plough; "clear out of this altogether!--you're only a damn nuisance."

Joe's eyes rested on the fistful of grass. They lit up suddenly.

"L-l-look out, Dave," he stuttered; "y'-y' got a s-s-snake."

Dave dropped the grass promptly. A deaf-adder crawled out of it. Joe
killed it. Dave looked closely at his hand, which was all scratches
and scars. He looked at it again; then he sat on the beam of the
plough, pale and miserable-looking.

"D-d-did it bite y', Dave?" No answer.

Joe saw a chance to distinguish himself, and took it. He ran home,
glad to be the bearer of the news, and told Mother that "Dave's got bit
by a adder--a sudden-death adder--right on top o' the finger."

How Mother screamed! "My God! whatever shall we do? Run quick," she
said, "and bring Mr. Maloney. Dear! oh dear! oh dear!"

Joe had not calculated on this injunction. He dropped his head and
said sullenly: "Wot, walk all the way over there?"

Before he could say another word a tin-dish left a dinge on the back of
his skull that will accompany him to his grave if he lives to be a
thousand.

"You wretch, you! Why don't you run when I tell you?"

Joe sprang in the air like a shot wallaby.

"I'll not go AT ALL now--y' see!" he answered, starting to cry. Then
Sal put on her hat and ran for Maloney.

Mea