"Why, it's an adder down that hole," cried one.
"And it's a charm we've got for conjuring him," quoth the other. "And we
only want Swanny to dig, and then if the charm is only a sham charm, the
adder will come out."
"I should have thought he was a sight better wheer he is," said Swan.
"But you've been so masterful and obstinate, Master Bertie, since you
broke your arm!"
"It's not at all kind of you to disappoint us on father's wedding-day."
"Well, Mr. Melcombe shall judge. If he says, 'Charm it,' charm you
shall; for he knows children's feelings as well as grown folks's. There
never was anybody that was so like everybody else."
"It's conjuring, I tell you, cousin Val. Did you never see a conjuror
pull out yards and yards of shavings from his mouth, and then roll them
up till they were as small as a pea, and swallow them? This is conjuring
too. We say, 'Underneath this hazelin mote;' that's the forked-stick,
you know; and while we say it the adder is obliged to roll himself up
tighter and tighter, just like those shavings, till he is quite gone.
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