better sell their tongue to the
surgeons and live only through their eyes. What's the use of existing
without talk--ay, and small talk too. Small talk is (as somebody I
believe says, although I am not certain, but no matter) the small
change of society, and who hasn't the small change, ten chances to one
hasn't the large. However, we'll change the theme.

We hear in the distance the hum of male voices, and the light silvery
tones of female, broken in upon by frequent laughter and the music of
the cow-bells, tingle lingle, tink clink--here--there--far off and
near.

All of a sudden, as I part a large thick cluster of whortleberry
bushes, I hear an indescribably quick rattle, amounting to a hum as it
were--fearful and thrilling in the extreme. I start back, but as I do
so I see in the gloom of the bushes two keen blazing orbs, and a long
scarlet tongue quivering and dancing like a curl of fire. "A
rattlesnake--a rattlesnake," I cry involuntarily--my companion gives a
little shriek, and in a moment several of our company, of both sexes,
are hastening toward us. It is a peculiarity or want of ability in the
reptile to dart only its length, and my first recoil had placed me, I
knew, beyond its reach. But there stood the leafy den, studded all
over with a profusion of beautiful gems, and although the rattle had
ceased, there to a certainty was the enraged monster, swelling
doubtless in his yellow venom; for it is another trait of the
crawling, poisonous demons never to desert their post, (rather a good
trait, by the way, not always possessed by those erect rattlesnakes,
men,) and we must get rid of the dragon before we could come at the
fruit. Well! what was to be done! We couldn't think of leaving the
field--that would be too bad--to be driven off by a snake, and before
the eyes of our Dulcineas too--it couldn't be thought of! So one of us
cuts a pole with a crotch at the end--the rest of us arm ourselves
with stones and sticks, and then the poleman commences his attack upon
the bush. Ha! that was a thrust, well aimed! hear him rattle,
hum-m-m--how the bush flutters! he sprang then! That was a good
thrust! Jupiter, how he rattles! see, see, see, there are his eyes!
ugh! there's his tongue! now he darts out his head and neck! Heavens!
what malignant rage and ferocity. Keep back, girls! don't be too
curious to see! Thrust him again! How he makes the bush flutter! how
his eyes shoot around! how his tongue darts in and out--a