ear-penetrating capacity of earwigs. She had
experiences and revelations of her own,--which she kept sacredly to
herself, as children do,--and one was in regard to a rattlesnake, partly
induced, however, by the indiscreet warning of her elders. She was
cautioned NOT to take her bread and milk into the woods, and was told
the affecting story of the little girl who was once regularly visited by
a snake that partook of HER bread and milk, and who was ultimately found
rapping the head of the snake for gorging more than his share, and not
"taking a 'poon as me do." It is needless to say that this incautious
caution fired Peggy's adventurous spirit. SHE took a bowlful of milk to
the haunt of a "rattler" near her home, but, without making the pretense
of sharing it, generously left the whole to the reptile. After repeating
this hospitality for three or four days, she was amazed one morning on
returning to the house to find the snake--an elderly one with a dozen
rattles--devotedly following her. Alarmed, not for her own safety nor
that of her family, but for the existence of her grateful friend in
danger of the blacksmith's hammer, she took a circuitous route leading
it away. Then recalling a bit of woodland lore once communicated to her
by a charcoal-burner, she broke a spray of the white ash, and laid it
before her in the track of the rattlesnake. He stopped instantly, and
remained motionless without crossing the slight barrier. She repeated
this experiment on later occasions, until the reptile understood her.
She kept the experience to herself, but one day it was witnessed by a
tunnelman. On that day Peggy's reputation was made!

From this time henceforth the major part of Blue Cement Ridge became
serious collectors for what was known as "Peggy's menagerie," and two
of the tunnelmen constructed a stockaded inclosure--not half a mile
from the blacksmith's cabin, but unknown to him--for the reception of
specimens. For a long time its existence was kept a secret between Peggy
and her loyal friends. Her parents, aware of her eccentric tastes only
through the introduction of such smaller creatures as lizards, toads,
and tarantulas into their house,--which usually escaped from their tin
cans and boxes and sought refuge in the family slippers,--had frowned
upon her zoological studies. Her mother found that her woodland rambles
entailed an extraordinary wear and tear of her clothing. A pinafore
reduced to ribbons by a young fox, and