THE DRAWBRIDGE. 265 



the snake and its home. However high the weeds, the 

 direction is never mistaken, and they seek shelter with 

 that celerity of movement no other creeping creature 

 can obtain. 



A friend of my early boyhood, and now but a chance 

 acquaintance, is the pretty, vivacious, amusing lizard 

 that years ago made this same fence its home. I should 

 be glad to know why it has forsaken us. There certain- 

 ly has been no change in the fence, and next to nothing 

 in the surroundings, since it was as common a feature 

 of our fauna as tree-sparrows in winter. But it has left 

 us. For years I have not seen one, and have nothing 

 to say concerning them save what I recall of a distant 

 but not shadowy past. Tear after year, about the mid- 

 dle of June, I was teased with visions of a dewberry- 

 pie, and straightway sought certain briery fields, where 

 for the labor of gathering was to be had an abundance 

 of the coal-black fruit. The task performed, how invit- 

 ing were the shady nooks of the old worm-fence ! "With 

 no laggard steps I hurried thither, and catching the 

 scented breezes fluttering through the rails, revelled in 

 the luxury of a well-earned rest. My friends crowded 

 about me. The chipmunks stared, whistled a welcome, 

 and were gone ; the dainty field-sparrow trilled from the 

 tapering cedar's top ; the tree-toads croaked ; the burly 

 carpenter-bee hummed heartily ; and darting past me as 

 swift shadows were the shy lizards, whose presence made 

 me forgetful of all discomfort, as I wistfully gazed after 

 them far down the sunny reaches of the fence. 



All my ingenuity was exercised in efforts to capture 

 12 \ 



