THE SEA-SERPENT. 
29 
course he’d take, and to give them a touching 
proof of love. Away he shoots for the great hotel. 
Blinded with rage, he does not see ; or, if he 
does, he knows right well that all Nahant would 
certainly flee. Should they see him coming right 
ashore, every one there would run away; for though 
he had often been there of yore, lately he’s rather 
preferred to stray on the less frequented shores of 
Maine. Nor is it at all surprising he should ; but 
it’s rather droll to hear farmers complain, that, 
merely to cheer his solitude, he knocks down their 
walls and rolls in their grain ! 5 
ii. 
m 
On fled the snake, and swiftly flew the boat 
behind through the dashing foam ; there never 
was a more frightened crew ; all of them wished 
themselves safe at home. One old sailor, Richard 
Rough, sung out, — u Avast there ! cut the line ! 
Chasing whales is fun enough, and catching serpents 
may be fine sport for those who like it ; but I am 
inclined to think, by his strength and fuss, that he 
