Other nest eggs of prescribed dimensions were taken out of stock; and a yet more wonderful thing happened!

One morning about fowl-feeding time a great cry arose.

“Sen-ake!” “Sen-ake!”

Yes, there was a snake.  About half—­the latter half—­its length was visible outside the back of a nesting place (a box open at the front), and a blow from a shovel disabled it.  Further examination showed that the snake had squeezed through a knot hole in the box.  A lusty man hauled on the snake violently.  The box was heavy, and from the front the snake could be seen.  It looked troubled and uncomfortable, but not inclined to back out, although the inducement in that direction was considerable.  Eventually the snake parted; and in the latter half there was a bulge.  Dissection revealed—­What—­marvellous! a nest egg.  But why did the snake show such reluctance to leave the box?  The first or forward half was hooked out from among the straw, and there was another oval distention—­another nest egg!  The snake had discovered elsewhere a china egg, had swallowed it, and then crawled in at the knot hole, and got outside another.  Escape was impossible. until the problem was solved by halving.

There are no more accusations of dishonourable motives on the part of the hens in doing away with the porcelain patterns to escape the arduous duty of laying.  It was all the fault of the serpent.  Now the serpent is not wise, for any nest egg beguiles him.  It takes a long while to digest such hardware.  Traps are now laid for him.  An egg of china is put in a box, the open part of which is covered with small mesh-wire netting.  The snake submits to the temptation of the egg coyly resting on a bunch of grass, and having made it its own, cannot let go.  Then comes abhorred fate in the shape of a gleeful man with a long-handled shovel, and the end of the snake is piece—­s.

ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE

“Cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the Isle.”

Now to proceed with the deliberate intention of dragging by the ears into these pages a crocodile yarn.  We have not a single “alligator” in Australia, our crocodiles being wrongly so called, but this perversity of nomenclature does not affect the anecdote.

To tell of the coast of Queensland, and to omit reference to an adventure with one of those wary beasts would be to court criticism likely to cast a shadow upon the veracity of more than one of the incidents and occurrences herein to be chronicled.

I approach the duty to the readers as well as to myself with diffidence, for has it not been stated that these pages were fated to be unsensational and unromantic, and can any one imagine an unsensational adventure with a crocodile?  Therein lie the virtue of and the apology for this story.