"I'd like to see one of those fellows catch a snake," Tom said.
"Do they, truly, Daddy?"
"Nothing they like better, I believe. They drop on him like a stone, catch him in that big powerful beak, and take him up into a tree, where they batter him to death against a limb, and then eat him. I should think Mr. Snake must shudder, wherever he is, at the sound of a jackass's laugh."
"That's a nice, useful kind of a bird," Aileen said. "I would like to encourage a dozen or so to live round the house. I've never seen a snake, and I know I should run if I did."
"Not you," said Tom. "You'd try to kill it."
"Indeed, I would not. Snakes make me creepy all over," said his wife.
"I killed them as a boy, but I haven't seen any since, except in the Zoo," Tom said. "I suppose there are plenty in this district, so we shall have to make up our minds to meet them."
"Don't you try to attack them, Garth," said his mother anxiously. "If you meet one, get out of its way and let it pursue its business in peace."
"But if it came after me?"
"Run," said Tom. "But they don't, as a rule: they are only too anxious to avoid you. A tiger-snake may show fight, but not often: the others are of a retiring frame of mind, unless you happen to tread on them."