And she knew when she was n't wanted; then she'd hang about the back-door licking a hole in the ground where the dish-water was thrown, or fossicking at the barn for the corn Dad had hidden, or scratching her neck or her rump against the cultivation paddock slip-rails.

She always scratched herself against those slip-rails--sometimes for hours--always until they fell down.

Then she'd walk in and eat.

And how she COULD eat! As a hack, Nell was unreliable.

You could n't reckon with certainty on getting her to start.