"He was off like a shot, sir, the moment his enemy was in trouble, and no blame to him. What a funny thing nature is altogether, sir! I very often think of that scene when I am at work here."
"But this place must be infested with snakes?"
"I have never seen but that one, sir, and I have been here for a long time. Would you like to see the old gentleman, sir? As the sun is up, and the morning rather warm, perhaps he will come out, if I pretend to be at work and give him a ditty. If he does not, we will look in upon him."
I accompanied the old man to a tomb, close to the monument beneath which the snake was said to have taken up his abode. I did not go very near to the spot, but stood upon a tomb with a thick stick in my hand, quite prepared to slay the monster if he approached me; for from childhood I have always had an instinctive horror of reptiles of every species, caste, and character.
The old man began to hammer away with his mallet and chisel, and to sing a very quaint old song which I had never heard before, and have never heard since. It was a dialogue or duet between the little finger and the thumb, and began thus. The thumb said:
"Dear Rose Mary Green! When I am king, little finger, you shall be queen."
"Who told you so, Thummy, Thummy? Who told you so?"
"It was my own heart, little finger, who told me so!"
The thumb then drew a very flattering picture of the life they would lead when united in wedlock, and concluded, as nearly as I can remember, thus:
THUMB. "And when you are dead, little finger, as it may hap, You shall be buried, little finger, under the tap."
LITTLE FINGER. "Why, Thummy, Thummy? Why, Thummy, Thummy? Why, Thummy, Thummy--_Why_?"
THUMB. "That you may drink, little finger, when you are dry?"
But this ditty did not bring out the snake. I remarked this to the old man, who replied: "He hasn't made his toilet yet--hasn't rubbed his scales up, sir; but he'll be here presently. You will see. Keep your eye on that hole, sir. I am now going to give him a livelier tune, which is a great favourite of his"; and forthwith he struck up an old song, beginning
"'Twas in the merry month of May, When bees from flower to flower did hum."
Out came the snake before the song was half over! Before it was concluded he had crawled slowly and (if I dare use such a word) rather majestically, to within a few paces of the spot where the old man was standing.