"
There was a movement under the cloth, and a little snake wriggled out,
to be back-broken by the butt of the masheer rod.
There was a movement under the cloth, and a little snake wriggled out,
to be back-broken by the butt of the masheer rod.
Kipling - Poems
"
I handed up the rod.
"What a nest for owls and serpents! No wonder the snakes live here,"
said Strickland, climbing further into the roof. I could see his elbow
thrusting with the rod. "Come out of that, whoever you are! Look out!
Heads below there! It's tottering. "
I saw the ceiling-cloth nearly in the centre of the room bag with a
shape that was pressing it downward and downward toward the lighted
lamps on the table. I snatched a lamp out of danger and stood back. Then
the cloth ripped out from the walls, tore, split, swayed, and shot down
upon the table something that I dared not look at till Strickland had
slid down the ladder and was standing by my side.
He did not say much, being a man of few words, but he picked up the
loose end of the table-cloth and threw it over the thing on the table.
"It strikes me," said he, pulling down the lamp, "our friend Imray has
come back. Oh! you would, would you?
"
There was a movement under the cloth, and a little snake wriggled out,
to be back-broken by the butt of the masheer rod. I was sufficiently
sick to make no remarks worth recording.
Strickland meditated and helped himself to drinks liberally. The thing
under the cloth made no more signs of life.
"Is it Imray? " I said.
Strickland turned back the cloth for a moment and looked. "It is Imray,"
he said, "and his throat is cut from ear to ear. "
Then we spoke both together and to ourselves:
"That's why he whispered about the house. "
Tietjens, in the garden, began to bay furiously. A little later her
great nose heaved upon the dining-room door.
She sniffed and was still. The broken and tattered ceiling-cloth hung
down almost to the level of the table, and there was hardly room to move
away from the discovery.
Then Tietjens came in and sat down, her teeth bared and her forepaws
planted. She looked at Strickland.
"It's bad business, old lady," said he.
I handed up the rod.
"What a nest for owls and serpents! No wonder the snakes live here,"
said Strickland, climbing further into the roof. I could see his elbow
thrusting with the rod. "Come out of that, whoever you are! Look out!
Heads below there! It's tottering. "
I saw the ceiling-cloth nearly in the centre of the room bag with a
shape that was pressing it downward and downward toward the lighted
lamps on the table. I snatched a lamp out of danger and stood back. Then
the cloth ripped out from the walls, tore, split, swayed, and shot down
upon the table something that I dared not look at till Strickland had
slid down the ladder and was standing by my side.
He did not say much, being a man of few words, but he picked up the
loose end of the table-cloth and threw it over the thing on the table.
"It strikes me," said he, pulling down the lamp, "our friend Imray has
come back. Oh! you would, would you?
"
There was a movement under the cloth, and a little snake wriggled out,
to be back-broken by the butt of the masheer rod. I was sufficiently
sick to make no remarks worth recording.
Strickland meditated and helped himself to drinks liberally. The thing
under the cloth made no more signs of life.
"Is it Imray? " I said.
Strickland turned back the cloth for a moment and looked. "It is Imray,"
he said, "and his throat is cut from ear to ear. "
Then we spoke both together and to ourselves:
"That's why he whispered about the house. "
Tietjens, in the garden, began to bay furiously. A little later her
great nose heaved upon the dining-room door.
She sniffed and was still. The broken and tattered ceiling-cloth hung
down almost to the level of the table, and there was hardly room to move
away from the discovery.
Then Tietjens came in and sat down, her teeth bared and her forepaws
planted. She looked at Strickland.
"It's bad business, old lady," said he.
