“Oh! mine Peter! Peter!” again cried the old man, “do come here, right off! Der schnake pite mine leg!”
If anything in particular could disturb the nerves of young Peter, it was snakes; for he had once been chased by a black one and frightened nearly out of his wits. At the word snake, therefore, young Van Riper fell back, nimbly as a wire-drawer, and called out in turn: “Where is der shnake, fader?”
“Here, up mine preeches!—Oh! my! my! my!”
“Vy don’t you kill him, fader?” exclaimed Peter, junior, keeping at a safe distance from his suffering sire.
“I can’t get at der little sinner, Peter; you come dake off my drowsis, or he’ll kill me mit his pites.”
But the fears of Peter, the younger, overcame his filial affection, and lent strength to his legs, for he started off like a scared two-year-old toward the old man Jake, to call him to the assistance of his unhappy father. A few moments after, the two came bounding toward the old man, and as they passed a haycock where their garments had been laid when they began work, Jake grabbed the vest which he supposed belonged to his employer. During this time old Peter had managed to keep on his feet, although he was quaking and trembling like an aspen leaf in a June gale of wind.
“Oh! come quick, Yacob!” exclaimed he, “he pite like sixty, here, on mine leg.”
Old Jake was not particularly sensitive to fear, but few people, young or old, are free from alarm when a “pizenous” reptile is about. He seized a small pitchfork, and, telling the unhappy Van Riper to stand steady, promised to stun the reptile by a rap or two, even if he didn’t kill it outright. The frightened old man did not long hesitate between the risk of a broken leg or being bitten to death by a snake, but promptly indicated the place where Jake should strike. Whack went the pitchfork, and down tumbled Peter, exclaiming, “Oh! my! my! my; I pleeve you’ve proke mine leg! but den der shnake’s gone.”
“Vere! vere’s he gone to?” says old Sweighoffer, looking sharply about on the ground he stood upon.
“Never mind der shnake now, Yacob,” says Van Riper, “come and help me up, and I’ll go home.”