SNAKES. 435 



holding it prisoner. The skin of this snake is now in one of my 

 drawers. 



This interference with snakes may be deemed rash and condem- 

 natory by a reader safe and snug at his own fireside. But custom, 

 they say, is second nature ; and I can assure him that, generally 

 speaking, there is very little to be apprehended in the way of dan- 

 ger during a sojourn amongst the wild beasts of the forest. Snakes 

 especially are of so retiring a nature that they may be considered as 

 presenting no obstruction during your journey onwards. Formerly, 

 by constant habit, I would just care as little about a snake as our 

 brave warriors cared for the bomb-shell whizzing through the air at 

 the siege of Sebastopol. In fact, the thought that I was to lose my 

 life through the venom emitted from the poison-fang of a snake, 

 never once entered my head. 



We have no vipers in this neighbourhood, but adders are plentiful 

 within the park wall, where I encourage and protect them. I love 

 to see them basking on a dunghill, or catching the meridian rays of 

 our short summer's sun on the southern bank of a hawthorn hedge. 

 Sometimes they will ascend into the trees to the height of twenty 

 feet. 



I despair of persuading my neighbours to enter into these feelings. 

 They seem to have a constitutional antipathy against all crows and 

 magpies, jays and hawks, and snakes. A keeper who can massacre 

 the greatest number of these interesting denizens of earth and air 

 is sure to rise the highest in his employer's estimation. 



As most travellers in quest of natural history probably have not 

 been sufficiently versed in the habits of serpents to distinguish those 

 which ought to be avoided from those which may be approached 

 with perfect safety, they take the alarm at every snake which they 

 see ; thus holding the whole family in utter abhorrence. And this, 

 by the way, is natural enough when we reflect that serpents in gene- 

 ral have a great affinity to each other, so far as appearance and 

 habits are concerned. 



Whilst passing through our own fields we can easily distinguish 

 the lordly bull from the rest of the herd ; and we prudently keep at 

 a proper distance. Again, in traversing a village, we at once know 

 the surly mastiff from the watchful sheep-dog ; but this is not the 



