"There is only one thing that makes me anxious in this glad world," remarked Richard as he looked down from the bush to the comfortable nest in the grass.
"What is it husband?"
"I am afraid of that snake I saw gliding outside and round the fence yesterday."
"Ah, yes," replied the little mother, "it makes my flesh creep to think of it; but I hope it won't venture into the garden."
"I trust not," said Richard; "but if I were a man, and if I had a gun, I should make short work of it."
"Aren't guns wonderful things, husband? How they blow out fire and smoke, and what a deafening noise they make!"
"They are indeed wonderful, Jenny; but aren't they fearful? Do you remember how the poor hare fell, although it was far away from the gun and running like a railway train?"
"I do, Richard; it tumbled over just as the fire burst out, and there was such a big blood spot on its side. Oh, guns are dreadful things."
"They are, Jenny, and we ought to be thankful that nobody around this garden uses them," said Richard, with a look of relief.
"Isn't Master George a fine boy?" remarked Jenny.