"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.