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Pietro had drifted down to Florida and was working with a gang at
railroad construction. He had been told to beware of rattlesnakes, but
assured that they would always give the warning rattle before striking.

One hot day he was eating his noon luncheon on a pine log when he saw a
big rattler coiled a few feet in front of him. He eyed the serpent and
began to lift his legs over the log. He had barely got them out of the
way when the snake's fangs hit the bark beneath him.

"Son of a guna!" yelled Pietro. "Why you no ringa da bell?"





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