Ugh. I never felt anything so creepy in my life. I flung him from me (with a wild cry, Ethel says, although I think she is mistaken). At any rate I tossed the snake far from me, and he made his sinuous, chilly, gliding, repulsive way to his waiting family. And probably wrote a book on the bad habits of human beings from his short and superficial observation of them. There is a certain rooted antipathy to snakes that lies deep at the base of our being. I cannot explain it, but I know it’s there. I am no snake charmer. Minerva might have said something, but she knew her place, and refrained. She merely went out to the kitchen and guffawed all by herself, while I, ignoring the remarks of my friends, went upstairs to wash the feeling of cold snake from my neck. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXX A HORSEHEAD PERCH. I ENJOY the luxury of being absent-minded sometimes. I claim that to be absent-minded once in a while proves that one has a mind to be absent. I was absent-minded the day that Jack and Billy were expected and I went over to the lake to fish for bass with Sibthorp, with never a thought of them. The rest of my guests went their various ways and left the house to Ethel and Minerva, and about an hour before train time Ethel realized that I had done nothing about getting the expected arrivals. “Can you drive a horse, Minerva?” said she. “I kin sit in the wagon and hold the reins.” “Well, I guess that’s all that’s necessary, but I can’t even do that. You’ll have to take me down to get the men who are expected.” “Yas’m.” “We must go at once and get Mr. Casey’s horse.” I must explain that Ethel knew that “th’ ould scut” had had the blind staggers the day before and that Pat had explained that he could not have two attacks the same week, as the blood letting simply rejuvenated him. So the two set off for Pat’s and found him unhitching his horse. “Oh, have you just been to town?” said Ethel (as she told me afterwards). “Sure I have. Can I git y’annything there!” “Why, I wanted to meet two friends who are coming up. If I’d known you were going down—” “I’d have waited arl night fer them. Annything to oblige a leddy. Take him though, you. He’s gentle as a kitten. Gentler, because I’ve not spared ’im. He’ll not have the blind staggers. I bled him like a pig yestiddy, an’ he’s fresh as the morning.” As he talked he harnessed him up again and invited the two to get in and he’d turn him around and start them right.