The beggar just yelled, 'O, Lawr, water snykes!' and he
ran, and Wickens after the crowd like mad, slashing 'em with the water
snykes. O dear, O dear, I shall never forget those snykes to my dying
dy."
"Are there any water snakes in our rivers in Canada?" enquired Mrs. Du
Plessis.
"Oh yes, ma'am," answered the fisherman, "I imagine those lykes we are
going to visit this afternoon are pretty full of snykes. Mr. Bulky,
whose nyme is known to Mr. Coristine, I'm sure, wears long waterproof
boots for wyding in the Beaver River--"
"But, Mr. Bigglethorpe," asked the fair questioner, "how can one ride in
a river?"
"Excuse me, ma'am, I did not say riding, I said wyding, walking in the
water. Mr. Bulky was wyding, one morning, with rod in hand, when, all of
a sudden, he felt something on his leg. Looking down, he sawr a big
black water-snyke coiled round his boot, and jabbing awy at his leg. It
hung on to him like a boa-constrictor, and squeezed his leg so tight
that it gyve him a bad attack of gout. He had to get on shore and sawr
it in two with his knife before the snyke would leave go.
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