A Snake

A marrow íeUow in the grass Occasionally rides; You inay have met him; have you not ? As he the grass divides. Divides the grass as wíth a comb, A spotted sliaft is seen; And then it cloees at your feet And Opens further on. He likes a boggy acre, A floor to cool for corn; Yet when a child, and barefoot, I more than once, at mom, Have passed, I thought, a whiplash Unbraidiiig in tlie un; Wheh, stopping to Becure it, It "svirinkled, and was gone. Several oi nature's people i I know, and they know me; I feel íor them a transport Of cordiaüty; But 1 never met this fellow, Attended or alone, ■ Without a tighter breathing, And 2oto at the bone. - Emily Dickineon, in Albany Evening Jouroal.