Flora says he niver see more th'n one--jist one big, long, ugly-faced horrible black one; the same one comin' back an' makin' a fizzin' n'ise at um iv'ry time he had the fit on um.

'Twas alw'ys the same snake; an' he'd holler at Flora.

'Here it comes ag'in, oh, me soul!' he'd holler.

'The big, black, ugly-faced thing; it's as long as the front fence!' he'd holler, 'an' it's makin' a fizzin' n'ise at me, an' breathin' in me face!' he'd holler.

'Fer th' love o' hivin', Flora,' he'd holler, 'it's got a little black man wit' a gassly white forehead a-pokin' of it along wit' a broom-handle, an' a-sickin' it on me, the same as a boy sicks a dog on a poor cat.