Chapter 10

(of snakes)

1 h fell [2h4-5-5] ** Alecto's <snake>, [2H4-5-5] ** For Doll is in. Pis
2 gers, [2H4-3-1] ** Or as the <snake> roll'd in a flowering bank, [2H4-
3 r me you but warm the starved <snake>, [2H4-3-1] ** Who, cherish'd in y
4 ** love hath made thee a tame <snake>, and say this to [LIK-4-3] ** her
5 IK-4-3] ** A green and gilded <snake> had wreathed itself, [LIK-4-3] **
6 be strangling a [LLL-5-1] ** <snake>; and I will have an apology for th
7 ou [LLL-5-1] ** crushest the <snake>!' that is the way to make an [LLL
8 ACBETH We have scotch'd the <snake>, not kill'd it: [MAC-3-2] ** She'
9 nd Witch Fillet of a fenny <snake>, [MAC-4-1] ** In the cauldron boi
10 ; [MID-2-1] ** And there the <snake> throws her enamell'd skin, [MID-2
11 every bush, [TIT-2-3] ** The <snake> lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
12 As frozen water to a starved <snake>. [TIT-3-1] ** TITUS ANDRONIC

The preceding was found lurking in the Concordance of Shakespeare's Works (www.concordance.com/cgi-bin/methr.pl) within the admirable Concordances of Great Works (www.concordance.com), a heady reference compiled by William A. Williams, Jr.

***

The following works are presented by Jesse Glass





From The Westminster Carrolltonian, September 16, 1842

"Remarkable Case Of Instinct In A Bird"

One of the most remarkable cases of instinctive knowledge in birds, was related by my grandfather who witnessed the fact with his own eyes. He was attracted to the door, one summer day, by a troubled twittering, indicating distress and terror. A bird who had built her nest in the tree near the door, was flying back and forth with the utmost speed, uttering wailing cries as she went. He was at first at a loss to account for her strange movements; but they were soon explained, by the sight of a snake slowly winding up the tree.

Animal magnetism was then unheard of; and whosoever had dared to mention it, would doubtless have been hung on Witch's Hill, without benefit of clergy. Nevertheless, marvelous and unaccountable stories have been told of the snake's power to charm birds. My grandfather having a mind to test the truth of such stories, thought he would watch the progress of things, but being a humane man, he resolved to kill the snake before it despoiled the nest. The distressed mother meanwhile continued her rapid movements and troubled cries, and he soon discovered that she went and came continually with something in her bill, from one particular tree— a white ash. The snake wound his way up; but the instant his head came near the nest, his folds relaxed, he fell rigid, and apparently lifeless. My grandfather made sure of his death by cutting off his head, and then mounted the tree to examine into the mystery. The snug little nest was filled with eggs, and covered with leaves of the white ash!

That little bird knew, if my readers do not, that contact with the white ash is deadly to a snake. This is no idle superstition; but a veritable fact in natural history. The indians are aware of it, and twist garlands of white ash leaves around their ankles, as a protection against rattlesnakes. Slaves often take the same precaution, when they travel through swamps and forests guided by the North Star; or to the cabin of some poor white man, who teaches them to read and write by the light of pine splinters, and receives his pay in massa's corn or tobacco.

I have never heard any explanation of the effect produced by the white ash; but I know that settlers in the wilderness like to have these trees around their log houses, being convinced that no snake will voluntarily come near them. When touched with the boughs they are said to grow suddenly rigid with strong convulsions; after a while they slowly recover, but seem sickly for some time.

—Mrs. L.M. Child.





From The Carroll County Democrat, September 13, 1860

"Death of the Little Girl said to be Fascinated by a Snake"

[From the Rochester Union.]

At half past even o'clock yesterday forenoon, the little daughter of B.D. Davis, of this city, whose familiarity with a snake has been frequently noticed, died at the residence of her parents on Centre Street. The facts connected with her case we shall state and leave the public to draw their own inference.

A few weeks since when Mr. Davis resided on Monroe street, in the outskirts of the city, near a nursery where he was employed, this little daughter less than two years old was accustomed to go into the yard or field and play with a snake. How long these meetings had been held before the discovery of the mother is not known. At all events the mother one day found the child with the snake in its arms, and the little girl was fondling it and calling it her baby.

Subsequently the snake was seen in the yard and would run to the child whenever she was permitted to go out. The child lost its appetite and pined away, and constantly talked and thought of this reptile. Her mother took her darling to the city to divert her mind from the hideous object, but in vain. Under the advice of a physician who was called, the snake was not destroyed and continued its visits to the premises at will, retreating to the field when any one but the child appeared.

Mr. Davis moved into the city and took a chouse on Centre street, hoping that the change would be advantageous to his child, and for a time she improved in health and took her food. Two days ago last Friday the child was taken ill and continued to sink until yesterday, when she died. She was subject to convulsions or spasms, which were very violent, and at no time could she take food and retain it in her stomach.

Her mother informs our reporter that she was attended by Dr. Fleming, who treated the child on the electrical principle, and she says that he found it a difficult case to treat, and expressed the belief that the snake had taken electricity from the system of the child.

On the day following the Friday on which the child was taken so seriously ill, a Mrs. Devins, who occupies the house on Monroe street, vacated by Mr. Davis, called at the house he now occupies and stated that a German named Conrad Keuchenbach had killed the snake which had troubled the child on the day previous–the Friday on which she was taken ill.

The mother says that when the little girl heard the statement, she said, "Mamma, is baby dead?" and soon became worse.

There is not much doubt about the statement made, as far as the facts are concerned. The conclusions and inferences are quite another thing. The snake killed by Keuchenbach was about three feet long, and was doubtless the same seen by Mrs. Davis and her family repeatedly with her daughter. Its being killed at the time the child became ill may have been a coincidence—probably was.

The child was two years and one month old when it died, and it was a very bright and interesting little girl. To what extent it was under the fascinating influence of the reptile, we cannot say. We only give such facts as we have been able to gather.