of the yellow-birds, particularly at the season when they were feeding
upon thistle-seed and made a golden cloud amid the white one as they
drifted with the down, well, he was the only one who really knew
anything about it! Who but he could take the odd-shaped pod of the
wild fleur-de-lis, the common flag, and, winding it up in the flag's
own long, narrow leaf, holding one end, and throwing the pod
sling-wise, produce a sound through the air like that of the swoop of
the night-hawk? And who better than he could pluck lobelia, and
smartweed, and dig wild turnips and bring all for his mother to dry for
possible use, should, he or his father or she catch cold or be ill in
any way? Hopes for the future had he, too. Sometimes a deer had come
in great leaps across the clearing, and once a bear had invaded the
hog-pen. The young man had an idea that as soon as he became a little
taller and could take down the heavy gun, an old "United States yager"
with a big bore, bloodshed would follow in great quantities. He had
persuaded his father to let him aim the piece once or twice, and had
confidence that if he could get a fair shot at any animal, that animal
would die. Were it a deer, he had concluded he would aim from a great
stump a few feet distant from the house. If a bear came, he would shut
the door and raise the window, not too far, and blaze away from there.
But in none of all these things, either present exploits or imaginings
for the future, was his interest most entangled. His specialty was
Snakes.

Not intended by nature for a naturalist was this youthful individual
whose specialty was snakes. Very much enamored was he of most of
nature's products, but not at all of the family _ophidia_. Snakes were
his specialty simply because he did not approve of them. All dated
back to the affair of three years before. Snakes were abundant in the
wood, but were not of many kinds. There were garter-snakes, dreaded of