SIXTY years ago we was plowing with a yoke of steers in a field that lay idle the year before, and we was barefoot, and there was a great many dead weeds in the field. We was plowing along, interrupting nobody, and we felt something tight around the foot, and we thought it was a forked or crooked weed, and we kicked, and instead of its coming off it rather seemed to get tighter, and we looked down and saw it was about a second-sized snake wrapped around our foot; and you ought to have seen him go, when we kicked the next time. We kicked with the spirit and with the understanding, when we saw what it was. It was not doing much harm, but we did not want it there.