THE ADDER'S SIESTA. 



once more to revive him. Then he ventures 

 forth timorously from his hole on some 

 bright May morning, to see how things 

 are progressing in the upper world ; and 

 meeting, peradventure, some belated shrew- 

 mouse or some early spring chicken, makes 

 a dash at it at once with what life he has 

 left in him, strikes it with his poison-fang, 

 and, swallowing it whole, straightway regains 

 fresh fuel for the battle of existence. 



Adders were always friends of mine. 

 They are numerous hereabouts, on our 

 heathy uplands ; and for my own part, I 

 do my best to protect and preserve them. 

 For we have not so many wild creatures 

 left in England that we can afford to despise 

 any lingering element of our native fauna. 

 Besides, they do next to no practical harm ; 

 occasionally, indeed, they may spring at a 

 dog who provokes their otherwise placid 

 and meditative tempers by treading on 

 them in the heather ; and they will still 

 more rarely make a dash at a man who 



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