Maby,
Darlin’ baby.”
“There, now, she’s fas’ as’eep,” said Alice. “Sh! sh!” She laid Nancy softly down among the mossy roots of a hollow tree, and, sitting close beside her, she heaved a funny little sigh, and said: “Oh, my! that child will wear me out!” which was a speech her nurse had very often made to her.
Soon there was a rustling sound. The hollow tree was full of dry, dead leaves, and out of these a huge black snake came crawling. It slowly curled itself round Nancy, and then lay quite still.
Alice looked curiously at a creature she had never before seen, or even heard of. Then she put out one little fat hand, and gently patted the snake on its head.
“Did you want to see my Nancy?” she asked. “Well, so you s’all, poor sing!” Then she smoothed the snake’s head, who appeared to like it very much, for it shut its eyes and seemed to sleep.
And the sweet little tender-hearted child, never dreaming of any danger from the loathsome reptile, looked up and smiled at the birds piping over her head, and kept on softly smoothing the head of her plaything.
And this was how “Mitter ’Trong,” as she called the gentleman who rode her oftenest to “Banbury Cross,” found Alice, as he was walking through the wood that summer afternoon. No wonder that he screamed, and rushed to her, and caught her up and kissed her, and almost cried, and then went at the snake with his stick.
But it was as frightened as he was, and May, Daisy and Kate came running up, just as it was squirming back into the hollow tree. Then there were three more screams, and their six bright eyes grew perfectly wild with terror—while little Alice looked on very much surprised, but not a bit frightened.
The children had missed their dear little playmate at last, and, very much alarmed and ashamed of their carelessness, were searching for her.