Life on a Wisconsin Farm 



beware. And yet it is only fair to say that this 

 terrible, beautiful reptile showed no disposition 

 to hurt us until we threw clods at him and tried 

 to head him off from a log fence into which he 

 was trying to escape. We were barefooted and 

 of course afraid to let him get very near, while 

 we vainly battered him with the loose sandy 

 clods of the freshly ploughed field to hold him 

 back until we could get a stick. Looking us in 

 the eyes after a moment's pause, he probably 

 saw we were afraid, and he came right straight 

 at us, snapping and looking terrible, drove us 

 out of his way, and won his fight. 



Out on the open sandy hills there were a 

 good many thick burly blow snakes, the kind 

 that puff themselves up and hiss. Our Yankee 

 declared that their breath was very poisonous 

 and that we must not go near them. A hand- 

 some ringed species common in damp, shady 

 places was, he told us, the most wonderful of 

 all the snakes, for if chopped into pieces, how- 

 ever small, the fragments would wriggle them- 

 selves together again, and the restored snake 

 [ III ] 



