THE WINNING SNAIL TRAILS

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12513, 31 July 1926, Page 16

THE WINNING SNAIL TRAILS

SAMMY SNAIL Oh, dear, kis a wonder I did not die with fright ! -I was neatly run over by motor-cars, and was nearly trampled upon by human beings, who, I am sure, were giants! Of course, you will wonder whatever I am talking about. . . I quite forgot we were not introduced. Well, lam Master Sammy Snail. Up till a week ago I resided peacefully with my parents m Smith’s front garden. I soon got tired of the same old place. You know how the fever takes you. You feel as if you want to go all over the world. Well, I thought the house on the other side of the road (Jones’s, you know) looked far nicer than Smith’s. So I set out on a tour, We lived among the geraniums under the window, and to get to the fence I had to crawl through a huge forest of grass. Then I had to climb a big fence, and all that only took the space of two days. When I got outside there was the traffic—motors, humans, bikes—l had to beware of them all. About the fifth day I nearly died from thirst. But soon I reached a puddle of water in the middle of the road, and there I refreshed myself. While I was reposing on the edge of the puddle, the Jones and Smith boys came up, carrying a tin which had once contained jam. “Look, here’s a stunner!” said the eldest Smith boy. “I beg your pardon ?” I said, haughtily. But they pounced on me, and said I was the best snail they had caught. Then they took me to the Jones’s house, calling “Uncle!” as they went. We found Uncle (who had just returned from France) sitting in a Morris chair and smoking a pipe, while his feet rested on the mantelpiece. He could tell great tales, Uncle could, about Frenchmen who loved snail soup and frog pie. “Hullo! What have you got ?” He was cut short by a chorus of voices. “Frogs and snails for you, Uncle! Mum will make you a stunner pie!” Uncle turned as red as the geranium that used to live next door to us. “Oh,’ he stammered. “How kind. Thank you!” He was saved from further embarrassment by the entrance of Mrs Smith, saying, “Boys, take those horrid, creepy things outside. Throw them over the sandhills.” But did the boys do that? No. Horrid little things, they played races with us! But while they weren't looking-, I crept away, and had a lovely time among the cabbages and lilies. After my week of adventures, lam very, very tired. So I will now creep inside my shell, and go to sleep. Good-night! CLAUDIA BROWNE Lyall Bay. (Aged io).