46 RAMBLES ROUND FOLKESTONE. 



when I saw a very beautiful viper, about half grown, 

 Meeting a brother of the net a few minutes after- 

 wards I mentioned it to him. " Of course you killed 

 it?" said he. "No, I did not, I seldom do." 

 " Perhaps you were never bitten by one ; or else you 

 always would." No, I was not ; I had kept them in 

 confinement, and I am always shy of killing any 

 creature I have watched and studied. Upon which 

 he fcold me that he was, and the circumstances and 

 consequences were as follow : He was out butterfly 

 hunting, and caught a viper in his net as it was 

 gliding over the ground. Not knowing then the 

 difference between a viper and a common snake, he 

 mistook it for the latter, handled it repeatedly, and 

 carried it home, where he placed it on a table to watch its 

 movements. He took it up several times till at last 

 it turned its head sharply round, and with its fang 

 punctured the forefinger of the right hand. Still he 

 took no notice, and continued handling it as before, 

 though he was careful now to lay hold of it closer to 

 the head. Shortly, however, he felb a curious 

 drowsy sensation stealing over him, which his friends 

 attributed to fancy. But it was not long before he 

 became seriously ill, his mind wandered, they put 

 him in bed and sent for a medical man. No ohve 

 oil was applied, and the principal thing given him 

 was neat brandy in occasional doses. The object of 

 this was to cause a reaction from the great weakness 

 which ensued ; he felt utterly prostrated, and needed 

 all that could be given him to restore his physical 

 strength. He lay in bed a fortnight, no fever 

 ensued, and more curiously no pain, nothing but 

 excessive weakness, and, immediately after the bite, 



