A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



visitors present would cry : " Look out, he'll 

 sting you ! " 



My snake proved to be fond of music. 

 Evenings I would play on the flute, while he 

 would come to the front of his cage and listen. 

 Some tunes would excite him so he would 

 glide about the cage. The Swiss Waltz would 

 always set him a-going. Shrill, discordant 

 notes would send him to the darkest spot in his 

 cage, where he would coil and remain so quiet 

 as to appear lifeless. On the approach of 

 cold weather the snake became torpid, and he 

 was killed. 



Some years, snakes, of all kinds indigenous 

 to this climate, are numerous enough to des- 

 troy the nests of the small birds. Therefore 

 I kill the snakes that are bird-hunters, because 

 I prefer birds to snakes. I have found that 

 some snakes, that come to my dooryard for my 

 pets, are so crafty as to make it nearly im- 

 possible to kill them. A big black snake often 

 came down the hill to the cabin, and when he 

 had reached a boulder he would look around 

 to see if I was there writing. This snake had 

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