"Oh!" shrieked Serafina "I hope it's not a snake; I shall die if it is;
I am so terrified by the horrid, crawling creatures."
"But it can't possibly be a snake," said Leander, reassuringly; "in such
cold weather as this the snakes are all torpid and lying in their holes
underground, stiffer than so many sticks."
"Leander is right," added the pedant, "this cannot be a snake; and
besides, snakes never make such a sound as that at any time. It must
proceed from some wild creature of the wood that our invasion has
disturbed; perhaps we may be lucky enough to capture it and find it
edible; that would be a piece of good fortune, indeed, quite like a
fairy-tale."
Meantime Scapin was listening attentively to the strange,
incomprehensible sound, and watching keenly that part of the thicket
from which it seemed to come. Presently a movement of the underbrush
became noticeable, and just as he motioned to the company to keep
perfectly quiet a magnificent big gander emerged from the bushes,
stretching out his long neck, hissing with all his might, and waddling
along with a sort of stupid majesty that was most diverting--closely
followed by two geese, his good, simple-minded, confiding wives, in
humble attendance upon their infuriated lord and master.
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