with multitudinous legs, a family record in faded embroidery, a shelf of
black-bound books, a dirty heap of gallipots and phials in a dim
corner),--gazing at these things, and steadying himself by the bedpost,
while his inert brain, still partially benumbed with sleep, came slowly
into accordance with the realities about him. The object which most helped
to bring Dr. Dolliver completely to his waking perceptions was one that
common observers might suppose to have been snatched bodily out of his
dreams. The same sunbeam that had dazzled the doctor between the bed-
curtains gleamed on the weather-beaten gilding which had once adorned this
mysterious symbol, and showed it to be an enormous serpent, twining round
a wooden post, and reaching quite from the floor of the chamber to its
ceiling.

It was evidently a thing that could boast of considerable antiquity, the
dry-rot having eaten out its eyes and gnawed away the tip of its tail; and
it must have stood long exposed to the atmosphere, for a kind of gray moss
had partially overspread its tarnished gilt surface, and a swallow, or
other familiar little bird in some by-gone summer, seemed to have built
its nest in the yawning and exaggerated mouth. It looked like a kind of
Manichean idol, which might have been elevated on a pedestal for a century
or so, enjoying the worship of its votaries in the open air, until the
impious sect perished from among men,--all save old Dr. Dolliver, who had
set up the monster in his bedchamber for the convenience of private
devotion. But we are unpardonable in suggesting such a fantasy to the
prejudice of our venerable friend, knowing him to have been as pious and
upright a Christian, and with as little of the serpent in his character,
as ever came of Puritan lineage. Not to make a further mystery about a
very simple matter, this bedimmed and rotten reptile was once the medical
emblem or apothecary's sign of the famous Dr. Swinnerton, who practised
physic in the earlier days of New England, when a head of Aesculapius or