"Oh, Joel!" She gave one scream, "It's a snake!"

"I know it," said Joel, trying to twitch back again; "it's an
ugly mean old adder, Polly, but he's most dead. I've squeezed
his neck."

"Let me see him," cried Polly. "Turn around, Joel. I'll help you.
O dear me!" as Joel whirled back, the long body of the snake
flopping from one side to the other. "If he'd keep still, I
could cut off his tail high up. I'll go and get the hatchet--"
and she ran off.

"Hoh! you needn't," cried Joel after her, in great dudgeon, and
giving a final wrench. "There, I've deaded him; see, Polly--see,
Dave!" and he held the snake up triumphantly.

"A snake!" screamed Davie, tumbling over backward on the grass.
"O dear me, it's a snake, Polly!" and he huddled up his feet and
tucked them under him.

"Ain't he big?" cried Joel, swinging the long dangling body at
Davie as Polly ran back.

"Don't scare him, Joel," she cried. "O goodness me! What a big
one, and a gray adder, too. Oh, Joel, are you sure he didn't
bite you anywhere? Do throw him down and let me see," she begged
anxiously. But Joel swung the snake back and forth. "Hoh, I
guess not!" he said scornfully, "not a single snip, Polly. Ain't
he big! I killed him all alone by myself."