From Elsie Burton’s diary
A frightening experience occurred there that has stayed with me to this day. My two oldest brothers, Clem and Floyd, were playing, giggling and making such noises that mothers learn should be investigated. Mother discovered these two tiny tots, about four and two and a half years old, with sticks in their hands, forcing a snake to stay under their small wagon as they wheeled it forward.
Mother knew practically nothing about snakes except that father had told her how he frequently encountered rattlesnakes in his work; so she knew they were in the area. The only thing she knew was the bite of rattlesnakes is deadly.
She tried to get the youngsters away from their game without frightening them or allowing the snake to get near them. She wasn’t having much success. The boys were enjoying their game too much and hence were not inclined to be very obedient.
As luck would have it, and as seems to frequently happen to those in God’s care, a man came along the road just then. He assisted Mother in extricating the boys from their game of tormenting the hapless snake. Then the man reassured mother that the snake was not a rattlesnake but was, in fact, a king snake. He stated that we should treasure it for king snakes and rattlesnakes are enemies and if it stayed around, it would keep rattlers away from us and that the king snake itself was not poisonous. The king snake did stay around for the rest of our stay there, not prized but tolerated. The boys had strict orders not to play with the snake ever again. This order they more or less obeyed with constant reminders.
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