AMERICAN ORNITffOLOGY. 6r 



dler and creeper about the floor. Polly, I must confess, was what her 

 big brother called a "fraid cat," and this caused her many unhappy 

 hours. 



One morning- Mrs. Robinson went to see a sick neighbor, half a mile 

 distant, leaving Polly in charge of her little brother and sister. 



Father and brother Martin had started at daybreak for Mr. Shrike's 

 woods to spend the day chopping down trees to make rails for a new 

 fence. 



"Be mother's brave little daughter, there's nothing to harm you," said 

 her mother as she kissed her goodbye. vSlipping the bolt Polly turned 

 back into the kitchen determined to prove worthy of her great grand- 

 father, whose picture hung in the front room, draped with blue bunting 

 in honor of his daring deeds in the wars of long ago. 



For a while she was so busy, that all fears were forgotten. She 

 brushed up the floor, rocked the baby to sleep in the little wooden cradle, 

 then hung the iron kettle on the crane in the old fashioned fire place, and 

 trotting back and forth with the tin dipper, soon had it filled with water, 

 ready to make the mush which was to form the mid-day meal. 



Deftly she arranged a pile of shavings and wood on the hearth, and 

 soon a blazing fire was roaring up the chimney. Swiftly she sped to the 

 woodshed and filled a basket from the sweet smelling cedar chips which 

 were protected by a piece of old duck, and soon had Bobby happily en- 

 gaged in building wonderful block houses, while she herself drew a lit- 

 tle wooden rocker before the fire and built as wonderful air castles, by its 

 flickering dancing flames. But soon there came to her mind, the stories 

 she had heard Sam Plover telling the day before, of the immense flat- 

 headed adder he had killed last summer, but a few feet away from the 

 front gate. It was too bad that Polly should have thought of this now, 

 for a snake was what she feared the most. Even a harmless striped 

 snake slipping across her pathway would make flashes of red start into 

 her cheeks, and bring such a lump into her throat that she could hardly 

 swallow. Sam had said that when one snake was killed, its mate was 

 sure to be found not far away, and she thought that although cooler fall 

 days had come, that other adder might still be about. 



Hark! What was that noise? Oh, that was but the crowing of a cock. 

 Hark! again. Could it possibly be that other snake? There it was again. 

 "S-s-s-s." Louder yet. What should she do. She must be mother's 

 brave girl. It took all her courage to go to the cellar door and lift the 

 latch. She opened it the tiniest crack. "Hiss-s-s." Yes it surely was 

 the hiss of a snake. Bob, white with fear, clung to her dress. She did 

 not linger to listen, "Slam," the door was tightly closed and father's 

 arm chair was pushed against it, as if fearful that Sir Snake might find 



