For a moment or two he stood erect, then he bowed gracefully to the saplings on his right, then to the stumps and trees on his left, and humming a tune, ambled across a small patch of ground that was bare and black, and pranced back again.

He opened his arms and, clasping some beautiful imaginary form in them, swung round and round like a windmill.

Then he paused for breath, embraced his partner again, and "galloped" up and down.
And young Johnson, who had been watching him in wonder from behind a fence, bolted for our place.
"Mrs.Rudd! Mrs.Rudd!" he shouted from the verandah.

Mother went out.
"Wot's--wot's up with Dave ?" Mother turned pale.
"There's SOMETHING--!" "My God!" Mother exclaimed--"WHATEVER has happened ?" Young Johnson hesitated.

He was in doubt.
"Oh! What IS it ?" Mother moaned.
"Well" (he drew close to her) "he's--he's MAD!" "OH-H!" "He IS.