“Ben and I were out, one day, and had gathered a few sheaves of prime ones, when we discovered a broad stone that showed good indications, but we couldn’t raise it.  The whole upper part of the mountain seemed to be built mostly upon this one stone.  There was nothing to be done but mole it—­dig under, you know; so taking the spade I soon widened the hole the creatures had got in at, until it would admit my body.  Crawling in, I found a kind of cell in the solid rock, stowed nearly full of beautiful serpents, some of them as long as a man.  You would have revelled in those worms!  They were neatly disposed about the sides of the cave, an even dozen in each berth, and some odd ones swinging from the ceiling in hammocks, like sailors.  By the time I had counted them roughly, as they lay, it was dark, and snowing like the mischief.  There was no getting back to head-quarters that night, and there was room for but one of us inside.”

“Inside what, Sam?”

“See here! have you been listening to what I’m telling you, or not?  There is no use telling you anything.  Perhaps you won’t mind waiting till I get done, and then you can tell something of your own.  We drew straws to decide who should sleep inside, and it fell to me.  Such luck as that fellow Ben always had drawing straws when I held them!  It was sinful!  But even inside it was coldish, and I was more than an hour getting asleep.  Toward morning, though, I woke, feeling very warm and peaceful.  The moon was at full, just rising in the valley below, and, shining in at the hole I’d entered at, it made everything light as day.”

“But, Sam, according to my astronomy a full moon never rises towards morning.”

“Now, who said anything about your astronomy?  I’d like to know who is telling this—­you or I?  Always think you know more than I do—­and always swearing it isn’t so—­and always taking the words out of my mouth, and—­but what’s the use of arguing with you?  As I was saying, the snakes began waking about the same time I did; I could hear them turn over on their other sides and sigh.  Presently one raised himself up and yawned.  He meant well, but it was not the regular thing for an ophidian to do at that season.  By-and-by they began to poke their heads up all round, nodding good morning to one another across the room; and pretty soon one saw me lying there and called attention to the fact.  Then they all began to crowd to the front and hang out over the sides of the beds in a fringe, to study my habits.  I can’t describe the strange spectacle:  you would have supposed it was the middle of March and a forward season!  There were more worms than I had counted, and they were larger ones than I had thought.  And the more they got awake the wider they yawned, and the longer they stretched.  The fat fellows in the hammocks above me were in danger of toppling out and breaking their necks every minute.