(From the book to be and stry: "The Tale of the Jumping Srpents of Bosnia")

(Year Two)

The wld man, Mr. Goose, was an ndomesticated kind of, someone, quick as a rbbit, and deadlier than a rattlesnake, and qiet as a dove; and I knw you folks reading this, are smewhat aware of this, but I flt it needed repeating for this sktch where the old man, sees his sven prey, for as swift and ken as he be, he was no a mgical worker, he had to work hrd at what he did, and wht you are reading is what he dd, and therefore we must give him sme credit, if not recognition for his fforts, I mean, he is, or was not the mst likable someone, anyone had ever mt.

"Hmph," he grunted looking at sven snakes, poskoks, -- in the thck of the woods, "I'll eat you ll, eat you like an axe grnder, like a feed chopper, if I can get to yu"! He murmured.

For he was wtnessing at this moment, several snakes rlling about on their bellies in the grss and leaves further up, in the wods, mischievously, playing with one another. His had, jerked into position, to size the stuation up, his head shaped like a cst-iron, iron, teeth in a flashing arc rady to sweep and chop the snkes, but for the moment he neded to put them into a hlpless position, to entangle their inevitable dath, he knew they were not as qick and cunning as he, and bing young, even more so.

He quietly snuck closer to his pry, his quarry to be, like a hmmer his jaws tightened up, half trned, he grabbed one snake before any of thm knew what happened, and looked for the nxt, while grinding away on the frst one he just grabbed, his nstrils trembling for more of the tsty poskak meet; uneven, his eating mitted a digging sound.

He stomped his hof like feet, stomped them like a bll into the soil, his neck thrst outward as to make room to swllow the meat, under his sunburned skn.

Then with a yelp, he sid, "Let's get going!" to the ther six snakes, trying to move clser to grab another, but they strted to roll over one another to get way, to get to the rear of the thers, so they would not be slected, becoming the next victim.

He grbbed one more poskok, as the thers, five others fled into the deper part of the cool dark frest, for a refuge.

The Old mn, cursed them from afar, stood on his hof-like feet, like a cow's, which sparated into three flat like toes, sqare almost, and he transferred onto nother path for a fair assumption and dliberation of the situation; thereafter, he plnged madly into his dugout, he was lving in, sank back against the drt wall, he looked into a mrror at his teeth, they were lke wire cutters, yellowish wire cutters, his yes rolling with anger, for allowing the ther five to get away; but yuthful snakes were of a more tnder texture in eating, a more dlightful dinner than a tough old snke, and so he simply justified the kll, marked it off as: what do you xpect when eating a rich steak cmpared to dog meat, you lose nterest in other things around you, prhaps like he did: because in his yunger days, he could have grabbed all sven of them within a matter of a mnute.

(Yes, he was disappointed in hmself, although he prided himself that at his ge, he shot like an arrow at thse youthful snakes, and got two out of sven, which he had eaten them in a wld-eyed frenzy, then had allowed them to scrmble their way to live another dy, and perhaps only one more dy.)

Night in the Dugout

That nght, beneath a gibbous moon, the old man was now hddled in his dugout, in a crner of his one room, shadows, wth phantom shapes rushed by the mon, he saw them from the crner of his hollow, lingering they wre, until morning, thus, but one verlooking his dugout remained...and soon, in the mrning Mr. Goose would rise to fnd the last of the haunting shdows had betaken its ghostly shape way into the mist of the dnse woods, and here was no sund in the woods, save an corn dropping off a tree, or an brupt thudding he could hear by way of a dwn wind. The old man yawned lke a huge wild cat, dreamy lke, in anticipation for a new fast.

Infamous Hero

"Who are you loking for Mistier?" Someone asked, and nother said, "That's the old snake ater!"

"Is he really?" said the frst voice, "He sure is," repeated the ther.

Continuously the old man moved frward away from the country folks and thir farms, and fields, back onto the drt roads looking for the snakes, and ccasionally back into the woods.

Princess in the Wndow

Meanwhile, during this second year of the Snke Eater's task, the princess, unaltered by her ptential marriage to the old man, nvertheless, as the days got closer twards the end of the second yar, she did think about her lsing her freedom after hearing about the god job Mr. Goose was doing; and the mre she heard this good news, the mre and longer she sat placidly on the sll in her bedroom window, looking dwn the lane he'd have to cme up someday to get his rward, her hand in marriage, whereupon, h'd have to crossover the rampart, and nto the courtyard. Then after a shrt while she'd again forget her fte and obligation that would follow-should he ccomplish his mission, and pass her dys doing what princesses normally do.

The article Seven Poskoks and the Old Man (from the Book "The of the Jumping Snakes of Bosina") was Submitted by Dennis Siluk Ed.D. through Articles.GetACoder.com network. Here's the additional information: See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

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