your snake
sting, my boy, and the little cut will soon heal up. There, suck the
wound a little yourself, and draw out the poison."

"But, doctor," cried Sir James, "surely a venomous snake injects the
poison through hollow fangs. Are you sure that that is a tooth?"

"No, sir," said the doctor. "That is the point of one of those
exceedingly sharp thorns that we are so infested with here. Look at
it;" and he held out the tweezers for everyone to examine the point.
"It's a false alarm, Mark, my lad. I can see no sign of any snake
bite."

"But I felt it!" cried Mark, as he stared at the thorn.

"I can't see any mark, and if the snake did bite it was only a prick
with one of its tiny sharp teeth. Look, Sir James; you see there's no
sign of any swelling, and no discoloration such as I believe would very
soon appear after the injection of venom."

"But what's that?" said Sir James anxiously, pointing.

"That? That's a thorn prick," said the doctor.

"Well, but that?"

"That's the stain from some crushed leaf."

"Well, that, then?" cried Sir James angrily at finding the doctor so
ready to give explanations to his doubts.

"That's another prick."

"Tut, tut, tut! Well, that?"

"That's a scratch."

"Well, that, then?" cried Sir James, almost fiercely. "There's the
discoloration you said would appear."

"Oh," said the doctor, laughing; "that's dirt!"

Sir James made no answer, but snatching a handkerchief from his pocket
he moistened a corner between his lips, passed it over the clear skin of
his son's wrist, and the dark mark passed away.

"Here, Dean," said the doctor, "hands up! That's right; draw back your
shirt sleeve."

The boy obeyed.

"Look here, Sir James," said the doctor, and he pointed with the thorn
he held between the tweezers. "You see that--and that--and that?"

"Oh, those are only pricks I got in the bushes, sir, the other day,"
said Dean sharply.

"Yes, I see," said the doctor, "and you had better let me operate upon
this one. It has begun to fester a little too."

As he spoke the doctor pressed the little dark spot which showed beneath
the boy's white skin.

"Oh, you hurt!" cried Dean, flinching. "Yes, there's a thorn in there,
and I see there's another half way up your arm, Mark, my lad. You had
better try to pick that out with a needle. It is all a false alarm, Sir
James, I am thankful to say. Snake bites are very horrible, but you
must recollect that the great ma