Newton was sorry to interrupt him, and would have made an apology, had he not observed that the colonel, whose back was towards him, continued his pleasing avocation: the fact was that the colonel was so intent upon his occupation that he had neither heard the announcement nor could he perceive Newton, who thus had an opportunity of witnessing the demolition of at least two dozen more mangoes without the colonel having turned his eyes in that direction, or being aware that he was not alone.

But something at length attracted the attention of Newton, and induced him to come forward, and put an end to the colonel's repast.

The colonel had just taken another mango out of the basket, when Newton perceived a small snake wind itself over the rim, and curl up one of the feet of the colonel's chair, in such a position that the very next time that the colonel reached out his hand, he must have come in contact with the reptile.

Newton hardly knew how to act; the slightest movement of the old gentleman might be fatal to him; he therefore walked up softly and was about to strike the reptile on the head with his stick, when the colonel, as he leant over the tub, half rose from the chair.

In an instant, Newton snatched it from under him, and jerked it, with the snake, to the corner of the hall.