Now, orchids do not grow in the main streets of towns, and Hans Breitmann had gone far to get his.  There was nothing that he had not collected that year, from king-crabs to white kangaroos.

‘Lisden now,’ said he, after he had been speaking for not much more than ten minutes without a pause; ’Lisden und I will dell you a sdory to show how bad und worse it is to go gollectin’ und belief vot anoder fool haf said.  Dis was in Uraguay which was in Amerique—­North or Sout’ you would not know—­und I was hoontin’ orchits und aferydings else dot I could back in my kanasters—­dot is drafelling sbecimen-gaces.  Dere vas den mit me anoder man—­Reingelder, dot vas his name—­und he vas hoontin’ also but only coral-snakes—­joost Uraguay coral-snakes—­aferykind you could imagine.  I dell you a coral-snake is a peauty—­all red und white like coral dot has been gestrung in bands upon der neck of a girl.  Dere is one snake howefer dot we who gollect know ash der Sherman Flag, pecause id is red und plack und white, joost like a sausage mit druffles.  Reingelder he was naturalist—­goot man—­goot trinker—­better as me!  “By Gott,” said Reingelder, “I will get a Sherman Flag snake or I will die.”  Und we toorned all Uraguay upside-behint all pecause of dot Sherman Flag.

‘Von day when we was in none knows where—­shwingin’ in our hummocks among der woods, oop comes a natif woman mit a Sherman Flag in a bickle-bottle—­my bickle-bottle—­und we both fell from our hummocks flat ubon our pot—­what you call stomach—­mit shoy at dis thing.  Now I was gollectin’ orchits also, und I knowed dot der idee of life to Reingelder vas dis Sherman Flag.  Derefore I bicked myselfs oop und I said, “Reingelder, dot is your find.”—­“Heart’s true friend, dou art a goot man,” said Reingelder, und mit dot he obens der bickle-bottle, und der natif woman she shqueals:  “Herr Gott!  It will bite.”  I said—­pecause in Uraguay a man must be careful of der insects—­“Reingelder, shpifligate her in der alcohol und den she will be all right.”—­“Nein,” said Reingelder, “I will der shnake alife examine.  Dere is no fear.  Der coral-shnakes are mitout shting-apparatus brofided.”  Boot I looked at her het, und she vas der het of a boison-shnake—­der true viper cranium, narrow und contract.  “It is not goot,” said I, “she may bite und den—­we are tree hoondert mile from aferywheres.  Broduce der alcohol und bickle him alife.”  Reingelder he had him in his hand—­grawlin’ und grawlin’ as slow as a woorm und dwice as guiet.  “Nonsense,” says Reingelder.  “Yates haf said dot not von of der coral-shnakes haf der sack of boison.”  Yates vas der crate authorite ubon der reptilia of Sout’ Amerique.  He haf written a book.  You do not know, of course, but he vas a crate authorite.

‘I gum my eye upon der Sherman Flag, grawlin’ und grawlin’ in Reingelder’s fist, und der het vas not der het of innocence.  “Mein Gott,” I said.  “It is you dot will get der sack—­der sack from dis life here pelow!”