The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-06-25

L eS Inc luck OF the bungalow 1T
was his treasure. Do not kill ii"
The snake Tapped up the rest of the
milk and in a twinkling slithered away
again. De Silva went back to his shelf.
and Ralph went to bed: but he could
not sleep. Above his head that night
and every night he could hear the
scamper of rats on the ceiling cloth,
and after them the rush of the snake.
and then faint, forlorn squeak, and
he knew that Magog was doing his
duty as a colonial house cat. the
snake may have been doing its duty
/ but Ralph could not bear the thought
of its nearness. He tried to conquer
! the feeling, but he couldn't.
/ Poor Magog, used to being petted by
/ its last master, would peer out from
] the ceiling cloth for hours in the even
ing. while Ralph was trying to read,
and Ralph would look up from his
books and see its black head and
quiet. watchful eyes and be Mortified.
Between its noise by night in the roof
and its presence in the evening. Ralph
grew so nervous that, in spite of De
Silva's warning and wishes. he tried
TO kill the snake. He sat one evening
at his table with revolver in hand
and when Magog appeared as usual.
went into the wall. Magog withdrew
like a flash. De Silva came rushing.
Il think l hit the brute said Ralph,
and pointed TO a spot of blood on the
Whitewashed wall.
'Oh, honorable dore.' said De Silva,
superstitious as his kind, lit was the
luck of the bungalow-say ] It right?
My last dore said Magog was the l'ick
of the bungalow"
And he went away to his kitchen
a-sorrowing,- but Ralph felt as l. he
had done a good deed, and rid the
world Of a hideosity.
No more came Magog to plague the
young sinnadore. For many nights
the rats scampered over the ceiling
cloth without any pursuer. Ralph. in
his lonely evenings, looked at the va
cant crack and congratulated HIM
self.
Il must have killed the horrid
brute" said he, land good job, too.
Probably the rats avenged themselves
by eating him..
So the young sinnadOre rested, and
told, when he was at the periadore's
bungalow for dinner, how he had made
a marvelously good shot at the snake,
and ridded himself of an intolerable
nuisance.
+ You oughtn't TO have done that"
said the periadore, smoking his che
root ana smiling upon the DON-
why not? l hate snakes-I abhor
them
Maybe but they have their USES
said the periadore. I'll kill a cobra
or tic-polonga quick as anybody, but
l would not kill a harmless ratsnake,
which is poisonleSs, and which, my lad.
has been cleaning out the rats and
mice from your bungalow for years. To
put 1t mildly, it was not only cruel,
but a mistake Marigold, your prede-
cessor cherished old Magog. He used
to tell me the brute was boss of the
house, and that, if Magog were not
there, the rats would make his life not
worth living
Yes, but the beast was so familiar
coming out at dinner to hang there
asking for milk-ugh,''
All right. old chap said the peria-
dore. its your bungalow, not mine
Within a week of the night when
Ralph shot at the snake. there came
one of those tumultuous rain storms
which are never seen anywhere except
in the tropical rainy seasons. 1t Is a
mistake to try and picture in words
one of these storms. You read of them
often, but, If you have not been
through one, you never could imagine
its horrors. Try and picture to your |
self the day of judgment. with the
whole heavens tumbling il. like a fall
ing roof, on top Of you. with all the |