Part 3

a. Mouth. b, c. Eye.]

Now look at Mr. Whirligig's eyes, you see each is separated into two parts by a division; the one is on the upper part of the head and looks towards the sky, the other is on the under part of the head and looks into the water. Now let us all keep quite still--the whirligigs rest. Now let us move--just look, they see our motions and off they start on their merry-go-rounds. It was with this upper part of the eye they saw us; should some sly fish, from below the surface of the water, make a rush at one, the beetle sees the enemy with his under eye and avoids him. What have you caught now, Jack? fish him out whatever it is. Oh! a fresh-water mussel, and a very fine specimen too; there are plenty of these fellows in the canal all the way from here to Newport. "Are they good to eat, papa?" asked Willy. I never tried one, but, from having often dissected specimens, I should say they were as tough as the sole of a boot. I never heard of anyone eating them. These molluscs carry their eggs, myriads in number, within their gills. The young, at the time they are ejected, are very curious little animals with triangular shells, and, oddly enough, they will fasten upon the fins or tails of fish, on which they will stick for some time, but how long I do not know.

This particular mollusc is known by the name of swan-mussel; the young fry are sent into the water in April and May. There is another kind of fresh-water mussel in rivers and streams, called the pearl-mussel, pearls being occasionally found in them. I had one of these pearls once given me by a lad, taken from a river in the Isle of Man. I took it to a jeweller, in Liverpool, who valued it at a guinea. Your uncle Arthur, to whom I gave it, had it set in gold as a pin "I wish," said May, who had listened to this part of the story with great attention, "I wish pearl-mussels would live in the canal, it would be so nice to get the pearls out of them." Very few mussels are found to contain the pearls; perhaps you might have to open many hundreds before you found a single pearl, and I should not like to cause the death of so many harmless animals for the sake of a single pearl.

"Here is another swan-mussel, and, just look, papa," said Jack, "some other shells are fastened on it." So there are; it is a lot of the curious and pretty little zebra-mussel. How prettily they are marked with zig-zag stripes of reddish brown, especially the young specimens. The name of mussel is better suited to these molluscs than to the large kinds upon which the "zebras" are often attached, because, like the salt water mussel you have often seen at New Brighton, they have the power of spinning, what is called, "a byssus"--here, you see, is the substance I mean--by which they fasten themselves to shells, or to stones, roots, and other things.

There flies one of those pretty little birds, the long-tailed titmouse; it is common enough, certainly, but I never fail to notice several upon the hedges and poplar trees of the "Duke's drive." There are several members of the titmouse family found in Great Britain; let me count them. First we have the great tit, then the little blue-tit, the long-tailed tit, the cole tit, the marsh, the crested and the bearded tit. How many does that make? Seven; but the crested tit is very uncommon, and the bearded tit does not occur in Shropshire. The other five are quite common and we shall, I dare say, be able to see all in the course of to-day's walk. The long-tailed tit, so called on account of the great length of the tail feathers, is a very active, lively little bird. Indeed, activity and liveliness belong to all the tit family. See how the little fellow flits from branch to branch, seldom remaining long on one spot. It is a very small bird, almost the smallest British bird we have; of course I am thinking of the tit's body and not taking into account its tail. The skin is remarkably tender, and thin as tissue paper. Like all the titmice, the long-tailed tit feeds on insects and their larvae. I do not remember to have heard or seen this species tapping the bark of a tree with its beak, as the great and the blue tit are frequently in the habit of doing, but most probably they do the same. "What do they tap for, papa?" asked May. I suppose for the purpose of frightening the tiny insects, which lurk under the bark, from their hiding places, when they quickly snap them up with their sharply-pointed bills and devour them. "Is not this the tit which the people about here call a bottle tit, and which makes a very beautiful nest?" asked Willy. Yes, the nest is indeed a very pretty object, and one that you would never, I think, confuse with the nest of any other bird. The outside is formed of that white-coloured lichen, so pretty and so common, and moss, and if you were to put your finger, May, into the inside, which is full of the softest feathers, you would say it was as nice as your own muff. The nest is oval, with a hole at the side. I believe that sometimes two holes exist, but I have never seen two in a nest. The eggs are very small, and are white with a few lilac spots. As many as a dozen or more are sometimes found in a nest.

The little blue-tit, which has just fled across our path is a very pretty active bird and common everywhere, in lanes, woods, and gardens. The blue-tit makes its nest in a wall or a hole in a tree and lays about nine or ten pretty little spotted eggs. How often I remember, when I was a boy, to have been bitten rather sharply by this little bird into whose nest I had placed my hand; I can fancy I hear the snake-like hissing which the blue-tit utters when some rude hand invades its home. Its food consists of various kinds of insects and insect larvae, which it finds on the bark of trees and in fruit buds. I think it does much good by destroying numbers of injurious insects, though gardeners and others destroy this bird, because they say it harms the fruit buds. Look at that little sprightly fellow, how restless he is; in what curious attitudes he puts himself on yonder branch. Hark! you hear him tapping quite distinctly. Besides insects, blue-tit does not object to make a meal of dead mice or rats. Mr. St. John tells us that a blue-tomtit once took up his abode in the drawing-room, having been first attracted there by the house flies which crawl on the window. "These he was most active in searching for and catching, inserting his little bill into every corner and crevice and detecting every fly which had escaped the brush of the housemaid." He soon became more bold and came down to pick up crumbs which the children placed for him on the table, looking up into Mr. St. John's face without the least apparent fear. Boys sometimes call the little blue-tit Billy Biter, no doubt from personal experience of the sharpness of Mr. Tit's beak. The great tit which we can see under the yew tree in our garden, almost any hour of the day, is very common in the neighbourhood, and I dare say if we look well about us during our walk we shall see some to-day.

"Oh! papa," exclaimed Willy, "there are some birds on the towing-path of the canal, about sixty yards off; they seem to be breaking something with their beaks by knocking it against the ground; just look." Yes, they are thrushes, and I can tell you what they are doing and what we shall find when we come up to the spot. We shall see several broken snail shells (Helix), which the thrushes find on the grassy slopes of the canal bank, and then bring up to the path in order to get at the animals inside the shells by breaking them against the hard ground and stones. There! as I told you, you see at least a dozen broken snail shells. I am sure the thrushes do a great deal of good by destroying both snails and young slugs, and it is a pity their labours are not more appreciated than they are. Lads in the village, and great grown men from the collieries, are continually hunting for the nests, eggs, or young of thrushes, and many other useful birds, which they wantonly destroy. Now we get on the Duke's Drive, and there, on a branch of a poplar tree, I see the great tit. Look at him; he is the king of the titmice, and he seems to know it. He is a restless fellow, like tits in general. Look at his black head and breast, white cheeks and greenish back. Now, by one of his hooked claws, he hangs suspended from a branch; now again he is clinging by both legs; see how busy he is, examining the leaves and bark in search for insects. But Major Tit is a bit of a tyrant sometimes and uses that sharp short straight bill of his with deadly effect upon some of his feathered companions, on whose heads he beats repeated blows till he cracks the skulls and eats the brains! The marsh-tit and the cole-tit are pretty common in this neighbourhood, we may often notice them in our walks.

If Willy were to get over the hedge with his net and dip it amongst the weeds of the pool, I dare say he will succeed in catching a few water-insects, which he can put in his bottle and bring to me. Of course the boy was delighted at the idea of dabbling with his net in the water--boys generally get immense fun from such amusement, and their clothes frequently not a little dirt. A weedy pond is a grand place for naturalists, and various are the beautiful and strange forms of animal life which are found there. Dipping amongst the duckweed and water-crowfoot is always attended with numerous captures, and Willy's bottle was soon full of active little creatures. Let us see what it contains. A large beetle is very conspicuous amongst the contents, now rushing to the top of the water, now sinking to the bottom, scattering far and wide the tiny water-fleas, and other little creatures by the strong and rapid movements of his swimming legs. This is the great water beetle; we will sit down on this clump of poplar tree by the side of the road, and take the beetle out and examine him; we must take care he does not bite our fingers as we hold him, for his jaws are powerful and sharp. Mr. Dyticus, for that is his learned name--from a Greek word which means "fond of diving"--is one of the most voracious of water-insects, but let us first examine his form. You see it is well adapted for the kind of life the beetle leads; look at that long oar-shaped pair of feet, what a broad fringe of hairs besets them, how admirably fitted they are for swimming; the wing-covers are smooth and glossy, without any furrows; by this I know the specimen to be a male, for the wing-covers of the female are furrowed. The structure of the forefeet is very curious; you observe its under portion forms a broad circular shield, covered with a number of sucking-cups, two or three being much larger than the rest; by means of these sucking-cups the beetle can attach itself securely to any object it wishes. The wings are large and strong, and situated, as in all the beetle tribe, under the horny wing-covers. I will put this bit of stick near his mouth; there, Jack, you see his strong jaws, and great use he can make of them I can tell you. If Willy were to put one of these beetles into his aquarium with his favourite sticklebacks, he would soon have cause to lament the untimely loss of some of them; woe betide the unfortunate fish or newt that is once caught by the strong jaws of this fresh-water tyrant! I have seen Mr. Dyticus rush upon a full-grown newt, and no twistings and writhings could free the victim from the fatal embrace. They will attack young gold and silver fish, and Mr. Frank Buckland has told us of the sad havoc these water-beetles do to young salmon, as witnessed by himself in a pond in Ireland. The forefeet you see are strong but small; the beetle uses them as claws in seizing its prey and conveying it to the mouth. A young and tender fish, you can easily imagine, Mr. Dyticus would very readily devour, but he will attack beetles as large and even larger than himself, seizing them on the under side where the head joins the body, the only soft place in a beetle. Dr. Burmeister, a naturalist who paid great attention to insects, tells us that he once kept a beetle related to the great water-beetle, and saw it devour two frogs in the space of forty hours. After the eggs are laid, which always takes place in the water, the larvae are hatched in about a fortnight. In time--I do not know how long--these larvae grow to the size of about two inches in length, and queer fellows they are, and very voracious and formidable-looking. Now, Willy, lend me your net, and I dare say we shall soon secure a specimen. What have we here? how the pond swarms with water-fleas! Oh! here is a treasure! What can it be? a long animated thread of glass--we will put it into a bottle by itself and I will tell you about it afterwards. Splash goes the net again, but no water-beetle larvae. Never mind; what does the child's songbook say--

"If at once you don't succeed, Try, try, try again."

A capital little verse to remember, so we will try again; and there now we are rewarded by the capture of a dyticus larva--a creature with a long body--in some respects reminding one of a shrimp. Oh! look at his jaws, how wide he opens them! You see that the last segment of the body is provided with a long pair of bristly tails, by means of which the creature can suspend itself at the top of the water. I have often kept specimens of these larvae in vessels of water and noticed their predaceous habits; they feed on the larvae of other water insects, but are not able to destroy fish, not being furnished with jaws or bodies nearly so strong as the perfect insect itself possesses. When the larva wishes to turn into its pupa state, it makes a round hole in the bank of the pond it inhabits, and there undergoes its change, turning into a full-grown beetle in about three weeks' time. "Papa," said Willy, "I have often caught beetles that remind me of the great water-beetle, but they are not so large; what are they?" They belong to the same family as the great water-beetles, and are called Colymbetes, Acilius, Cybister; I do not know that they have any English names. Come, we have dabbled in this pond long enough for the present, let us proceed on our walk. "Well, but, papa," said May, "you have not told us what that long worm-like creature is in the separate bottle; do let us look at it again. Oh! really it is a curious creature, why it is as transparent as glass, now it jerks itself about, now it floats without motion in mid-water. What is it?" "I am inclined to think," said Willy, "judging from its wriggling, jerking motions that it must be the larva of some kind of gnat." Right again, my boy, it is the larva of a gnat, and one known to naturalists by the name of Corethra; you see there are eleven divisions or segments in the body; the head is of strange form, and near the mouth are two hooked arms which spring from the middle of the forehead and bend down in front of the mouth; with these weapons the Corethra larva seizes its prey and crushes it between two rows of sharp spikes placed under the mouth; after being bruised and mangled by this apparatus the prey is ready to be swallowed.

"But what," asked Jack, "are those four curious black bodies; one pair near the head, the other pair near the tail of the animal?" They are air-sacs, and are connected with the breathing or respiration of the larvae. Some have supposed that they serve the same office as the swimming bladder of certain fish, which being compressed or dilated at will enables the creature to remain still in mid-water or to rise or sink in it. After a time the larva changes to a pupa, in which state it lives without eating for a few days, and then turns into a gnat. We now proceed on our walk and come to a part of the road which has a plantation on either side; we see a little active creature crossing the road and at once recognise a weasel. Let us keep quite still and silent, and we shall, I dare say, have an opportunity of watching it for a short time. Just look at him! how nimbly the little creature runs along; now he stops and raises his head as if listening for something, now off he starts again; he is evidently hunting, and probably is on the scent of a young rabbit, rat, or field-mouse. Ah! see he has caught something on the grass near the hedge; what has he got in his mouth? it is a small rat, I think; now he throws his flexible body over it and gives it one or two bites. Now, Jack, run up and catch him. Ah! he is off like a shot; you must not think to "catch a weasel asleep." I often see these little animals in my rambles, and always stop to witness their extraordinary activity. Weasels will sometimes climb trees and surprise some unfortunate bird on her nest; they are fond of eggs, and a bird's young brood are very dainty morsels; they will also eat moles and are sometimes caught in mole-traps. An excellent observer mentions a case of a mole-trap having been found many years ago with two weasels in it; they had been hunting in the mole's runs, had come in opposite directions, and "by a curious coincidence, must have both sprung the trap at the same instant." Weasels are generally classed as vermin and killed on all possible occasions; I think it is often a mistake to destroy them; no doubt they will occasionally catch a young rabbit or a leveret or suck a few partridges' eggs, but the common food of the weasel consists of such small animals as mice, moles, rats, small birds. In wheat or other grain ricks, they ought to be encouraged, as they enter them for the sake of the rats and mice they find there. I have been told by a friend that in some parts of Wales the farmers look upon the weasel as a friend, in consideration of the destruction it causes to mice and rats. A gentleman living near Corwen killed a weasel, and expected to receive the thanks of the farmer on whose land it had been killed; he was surprised to find that the farmer was by no means grateful. In this respect I think the Welsh farmers are wiser than the English ones. Hawks sometimes prey upon weasels.

Mr. Bell tells a story of a gentleman who was riding over his grounds, once having seen a kite pounce upon some object on the ground and rise with it in his talons. "In a few moments the kite began to show signs of great uneasiness, rising rapidly in the air, or as quickly falling, and wheeling irregularly round, whilst it was evidently trying to force some hurtful thing from it with its feet." After a short but sharp contest the kite fell suddenly to the ground, not far from where the gentleman was watching the proceeding. On riding up to the spot "pop goes the weasel," none the worse for his aerial journey, but the kite was dead, for the weasel had eaten a hole under the wing. The weasel makes its nest in a bank or in loosely-constructed stone walls; three or four young ones are generally produced. Some years ago I remember seeing a mother-weasel and three young playing about on a bank. It was a most interesting sight. The weasel is much smaller than the stoat, and you can tell it at once by its tail, which is entirely red; that of the stoat has a black tip. But it is getting late and we must hasten home.

WALK III.

MAY.

To-day we will go and hunt for sticklebacks' nests; as it is calm I think we shall have very little trouble in finding a few; a calm day should always be chosen, because to find the nests of these little fish it is necessary to have very sharp eyes, and to look very closely, and you know if there is much wind the water is ruffled, and then it is not easy to see objects in it. Let us start off, then, with bait-can, canvass-net, and two or three large-mouthed bottles, to that small, clear, shallow pond in Mr. Jervis's field, and see if we can bring home a few fish and eggs. "It will be great fun," said Willy, "and when we have caught the little fish we will bring them home and put them in my aquarium." There are three species of sticklebacks found in this country, the three-spined, the ten-spined, and the fifteen-spined--this last inhabits salt water. All three build nests, and show great care for their little brood. The nests of the three-spined species are those most generally known, though I dare say, if we search carefully in the drains on the moors, we shall be successful in finding a nest of the ten-spined fellow, or tinker, as he is sometimes called.

Here we are at the pond, how clear it is, and how beautifully green are the few patches of star-wort in the water! As the grass is quite dry we can all sit down so as to get our eyes as near to the water as possible; never mind a few crawling ants, May; if they bite you, I shall not feel it. Ah! do you see that little fellow with crimson breast and eyes like emeralds? He sees us, for look how disturbed he seems; now he darts away and hides under a weed, but soon returns to the same spot; it is pretty certain he has a nest close by. I will put my walking-stick into the water near him. Well, actually, the brave little fellow is not the least frightened; see, he bunts his nose against the stick, and is very angry; he is afraid of some danger to his nest--this makes him so bold. Now I have made out where the nest is, it is close under him; do you see a few small holes in the mud at the bottom of the water? No, you don't see anything; well, then, give me my stick and I will point them out. There now, do you see what I mean? Yes, you do; that is all right. "Let us get the nest out of the water," said Jack. Have patience; let us watch what the fish is doing; see, he is busy fanning away with his tiny fins directly over the nest. "What is he doing that for?" said Willy. The quick movements of his fins bring fresh currents of water to the eggs or little fry that may be within. Ah! did you see that? another fish came near the nest; how furiously our brave "soldier" charged him; how quickly the intruder retired! I do not think he will dare to approach so near again for a long time, for those sharp spines on the under side of the soldier are like a couple of bayonets and can inflict serious wounds. Let us leave this nest for a time and try to find some more. Now that you have once seen a nest, you will not have much difficulty in finding others. Willy soon found another nest; "just look," he said, "there are a lot of the tiniest little things close to the nest." Yes, indeed, so there are; the eggs have hatched, and these are the little fry; there is Father Stickles quite proud of his numerous family, and quite ready to fight for them should any enemy be rash enough to intrude, for you must know that sticklebacks, like many other fish, do not object to eat the young fry of their neighbours, and if the parent there--it is the male only that is the protector--were to be removed, a hungry pack of other sticklebacks would crowd around and make sad havoc amongst that happy little family. I remember some years ago having once taken a father stickleback away from his nest, and, after putting him in my collecting bottle, I sat down to watch the result. Soon an invading army of other sticklebacks approached and attacked the nest for the purpose of getting at the clusters of eggs it contained. They pulled it about sadly, till I began to be sorry for what I had done. I returned the captive-parent to the water; at first he hardly knew where he was, and seemed confused, the result, no doubt, of his confinement in the bottle; but he was not long in coming to himself--he remembered his nest and the treasures it contained; he saw that devastating army all around it, and, summoning all his courage, the soldier-parent began an attack, now rushing at one and now at another enemy, till he was left alone on the battle-field, having thus gained, single-handed, a glorious victory indeed.

Well, we will take this one home, with nest and eggs it contains. You see the nest is a mass of tangled grass roots and other weeds; now that it is out of the water it is a shapeless mass. However, here is a cluster of pinkish eggs, and if you look closely you will see two little specks in each egg; so that the fish is being formed, for these are the little thing's eyes. You can see, too, the tiny things jerking their tails about every now and then. It is most interesting to watch the care the parent takes of his little ones when hatched. Some few years ago I put a male stickleback in a basin of water in charge of his nest. When the young ones were hatched it was most curious to notice his anxiety for their welfare. Of course young sticklebacks, like young children, are of an inquisitive turn of mind, and apt to play truant too occasionally; but should some little fellow wander too far from the nest, Father Stickles hurries after him, takes the little truant in his mouth, and spits him out right over the nest. This I repeatedly witnessed myself, and I have no doubt you will be able to see the same thing yourselves.

"Are not sticklebacks quarrelsome little fish?" asked Willy. Yes, they are very fond of fighting, and they are so bold that they do not fear any enemy, whatever his size. I once kept a small pike, about ten inches long, in an aquarium, into which I also introduced five or six sticklebacks. I suppose the pike did not much like the look of the prickles or spines, for he did not eat the fish. Once I saw him make the attempt, but after getting Master Stickles into his mouth, he quickly threw him out again, not relishing, I suppose, the sauce piquante of the spines. The sticklebacks were really masters; they tormented Mr. Pike dreadfully; first one would take a bite at his tail, and then another, till the tail had a woful expression indeed; so I turned the pike into a pool of water, and I dare say the retail business has long ere this been completed.

"Are there any other kinds of fish," asked Willy, "that make nests and take care of their young ones like the three species of sticklebacks?" Yes, there are several kinds of fish which do so, but no other British fresh-water kinds, I believe. There is the salt-water Lumpsucker, a fish of strange form and brilliant colour--you know the pickled specimen in my study--whose young soon after birth fix themselves to the sides and on the back of their male parent, who sails, thus loaded, away to deeper and more safe retreats. There are the long pipe-fishes, the males of which possess each a singular pouch on the tail; in this the eggs of the female are deposited and matured; the young ones occasionally leave their strange abode, and after swimming about for a time return to it again, reminding us in this respect of the kangaroos and opossums amongst mammalia. There are also fish which inhabit the rivers of Demerara which make nests and show great attachment to their young ones, and I dare say several other fish will be found to do the same.

"Oh! papa, do look here; as I was turning over this bit of flat tile I saw in the water I found a creature something like a leech, and on raising it up I saw what looks like a quantity of the animal's eggs, and she seems to be sitting upon them as a hen upon her eggs." All right, Jack; let me look, I dare say it is one of the snail-leeches. Yes, to be sure it is, and here are the eggs which the creature carefully covers with her body, and upon which she will sit till the young ones are formed; the small brood, sometimes one hundred and fifty or more in number, then attach themselves to the under surface of the parent, and are carried about wherever she goes. There are various species of this interesting family; all are inhabitants of fresh water; some incubate or sit upon their eggs, others carry them about in a hollow formed by the contraction of the sides. They have a long tubular proboscis, by means of which they suck out the juices of pond-snails and other water creatures. These snail-leeches move along in the same way as the common horse-leech and the medicinal leech, namely, by fixing the head-part on to the surface of some substance in the water and then drawing the hinder part up to it; they then extend the head-portion and fix it upon another spot, again drawing up the other extremity. But the leeches, properly so called, have all red blood; that of the snail-leeches is colourless.

"Is the leech used to bleed people when they are ill ever found in the ponds of this country?" asked Willy. I believe it is rarely met with now-a-days; most of the leeches used in medicine are imported from Spain, Hungary, the south of France, and Algeria; many millions are brought every year to this country. The medicinal leech, was, however, once pretty common in the lakes and pools of the north of England. The poet Wordsworth introduces us to an old leech-gatherer lamenting the scarcity of the animals in the following lines:

"He with a smile did then his words repeat And said that gathering leeches far and wide He travelled; stirring thus about his feet The waters of the pool where they abide. Once I could meet with them on every side; But they have dwindled long by slow decay; Yet still I persevere and find them where I may."

This sonnet was written in 1807, and when we consider the immense numbers used in medicine, and the utter neglect of leech culture in this country, we shall cease to wonder that native leeches are very scarce. It is said that four only of the principal dealers in London import every year more than seven million leeches. The annual demand in France was estimated in 1846 to be from twenty to thirty millions; Paris requiring three millions a year. "I should be very sorry, papa," said Jack, "to walk about like the old man in the lines you quoted just now, with bare legs in the water, making them a bait for leeches. Ugh! it is horrible to think of; they must suck a good deal of blood from the man's legs." There is nothing like being used to a thing, and when you remember that many people derive their whole support from the leeches they gather, you will not wonder that they do not fear a few leech bites. I do not suppose they lose much blood; no doubt the gatherers pick them up pretty quickly and put them into their collecting cases; besides the chief flow of blood from a leech-bite occurs after the leech has been removed; the flow is encouraged by the application of warm fomentations, but the cold water of a pool would stop the flow of blood in the case of the man's legs. We ought to be thankful for the existence of an animal which is of such immense service to mankind. I suppose it was the appreciation of their value in medicine that induced French ladies, about forty-five years ago, to regard leeches with especial favour. Many people remember the Cochin-China mania and the sea-anemone mania, but, May, what will young ladies say to the fact that in 1824 there existed in France a mania for leeches? The most enthusiastic admirer of Cochin fowls or sea-anemones would never have thought of carrying her admiration of her pets so high as to wear on her dress figures of these animals; but we learn from a French writer that there might have been seen at that period elegant ladies wearing dresses a la Broussais on the trimming of which were imitations of leeches! Broussais, you must know, was a physician, no doubt a fashionable ladies' doctor, and a great patron of leeches. "What," asked Willy, "are the leeches I often find in the drains on the moors and in other places?" I have no doubt you often find these kinds; there is a small leech, the commonest of all, called Nephelis, whose little oval cocoons are so frequent on the under sides of stones in the water and on water plants. I will soon find a few cocoons; look here, under this bit of brick tile are five or six; they now contain eggs, as I will show you, by slitting open the case with my penknife. These gradually change to young leeches, which find their way out of the cocoon through one or other of the two openings at either end. Then there is the horse leech, and another very similar to it, called Aulastoma, which means having "a mouth as wide as a hall;" it has no English name, but we may give it one if you like, and call it "the hall-mouthed leech." Its mouth is capable of great stretching, and can readily take in huge earthworms nearly the size of itself. I once witnessed a curious sight--I put a couple of "hall-mouths" into a glass vessel of water, and introduced also a great fat lob-worm; each leech seized the worm, the one took the head, the other the tail. As the worm got gradually swallowed the two leeches came to very close quarters, and at last touched. What was to happen? would they twist and writhe about and break the worm, and so share the "grub" between them? No; the one fellow quickly proceeded to swallow his antagonist. I watched him carefully, and he succeeded in getting down the red lane about an inch of his companion; but whether he did not like the taste, or whether he had qualms of conscience for taking such unfair advantage of a near relation, I know not; after a few minutes the partly swallowed leech made his appearance again, apparently none the worse for his temporary sojourn in the throat of his companion. This leech may be seen sometimes on damp earth in search of its favorite earthworms. I should mention also that another worm-devouring leech has lately been found in this country; it is known by the name of Trocheta, called after a French naturalist, Du Trochet, who first described it. I dare say if we look carefully we shall find it in this neighbourhood. All these leeches lay cocoons in which the young are developed. Let us leave the pool and take our little fish with us, taking care not to shake the can more than we can help. We are now in the fields; the grass is beautifully green after the late rain. Look at that crab tree in the hedge; did you ever see such a magnificent mass of blossom? The hawthorn hedges are loaded with May-buds; what a show of May there will be in a fortnight's time. Let us gather a sprig of crab blossom and a few bits of May-bud, and see if we cannot gather a pretty handful of wild flowers for May to take home to mamma. Here are a few cowslips with their drooping golden bells and delicious scent; I am afraid we shall not find enough to make a cowslip ball. Here is cuckoo-flower, which, as old Gerarde says, "doth flower in April and Maie, when the cuckoo doth begin her pleasant notes without stammering." Old Gerarde, by the way, ought to have said "his pleasant notes," for it is the male bird alone that cries "cuckoo." Its flowers are of a delicate pale purple when at the height of its beauty; they become nearly white when on the wane. "Ladies' smock" is another name for this harbinger of Spring; Shakespeare speaks of it--

"The daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white."

Here is blue speedwell and the delicately pencilled stitchwort with its pure snow-white blossoms and delicate green leaves. It is a lovely Spring flower and very common amongst the grass of every hedgerow. We will pluck a few bits; how brittle the stem is. What curious ideas our ancestors must have had; fancy calling this plant "all-bones!" Its name, stitchwort, no doubt alludes to the plant's supposed virtue in cases of "stitches" in the side. The following lines of Calder Campbell on Spring flowers I am sure you will think very pretty:

"The buds are green on the Linden tree, And flowers are bursting on the lea; There is the daisy, so prim and white, With its golden eye and its fringes bright; And here is the golden buttercup, Like a miser's chest with the gold heap'd up; And the stitchwort with its pearly star, Seen on the hedgebank from afar; And there is the primrose, sweet, though wan, And the cowslip dear to the ortolan, That sucks its morning draught of dew From the drooping curls of the harebell blue."

Here is more "May-flower" or marsh marigold; let us take some; it will make a bright show in our wildflower cluster. We will put a sprig or two of copper beech, with its rich brown leaves, which we can get from the garden, two bits of lilac, purple and white; and though the nosegay is common, it is still very beautiful, and mamma will put it in her best vase and give it a place in the drawing-room for those to admire who have hearts to admire the wild gifts of Nature.

Why, Jacko, what are you grubbing up in that ditch? "I am not grubbing up anything," said Jacko, "but here are a lot of black creatures, lively enough when you stir them up; I suppose they must be tadpoles." Tadpoles, Jack, unquestionably, but are they the young of the toad or the frog? Let me see. Well, it is not easy to say which in their present stage, a tadpole is so like a tadpole, whether the young of frog or toad. If you had found the eggs, which you might have done earlier in the year, there would have been no difficulty in saying whether they belonged to a toad or a frog; for the toad lays its black eggs imbedded in a long clear jelly-like line, whereas the frog's eggs are imbedded in a shapeless mass of jelly. Look at some of these little black fellows, as black as niggers; there is a delicate fringe on each side of the head; these are the creature's gills and answer the same purpose as the gills in a fish; the blood circulates through them, and is made fresh and pure by the action of the air contained in the water. In this state the tadpole is more of a fish than a reptile; in a short time, however, these gills will be lost and then the tadpole can no longer breathe the air of the water, but must come to the surface to take in air from the atmosphere. By-and-by we should see two small tubercles appear near the root of the tail; these are the first indications of hind-legs. Meanwhile the forelegs are budding forth, and in time would assume their distinct forms. The changes of the tadpole, when it is a fish, to a frog, when it becomes a reptile, are most curious and instructive. If you have never seen the circulation of blood in a tadpole's tail, you have something to look forward to, and I will promise to show it you some day under the microscope. "What kind of frog," Willy asked, "do they eat in France? because you know the French eat frogs." The frog which the French eat is a different species from our common frog, though I dare say our common frog would be quite as good. The edible frog has been several times found in this country, and Mr. Eyton says that during the time a detachment of the French were prisoners at Wellington, they were highly delighted to find their old friend the edible frog in the wild moors here. I have never myself seen any other than the common frog in this neighbourhood. You may think a frog would make a curious sort of pet, but a gentleman once kept a frog for several years quite domesticated. It made its appearance in an underground kitchen at Kingston on the banks of the Thames. The servants, wonderful to say, showed him kindness and gave him food; one would rather have expected that they would have uttered loud shrieks of terror and fainted away at the unexpected sight. Curiously enough, during the winter seasons, when frogs as a rule are lying asleep at the bottom of a pool, this frog used to come out of his hole and seek a snug place near the kitchen fire, where he would continue to bask and enjoy himself till the servants retired to rest. And more curious still, this frog got remarkably fond of a favourite old cat, and used to nestle under the warm fur of Mrs. Pussy, she in the mean time showing she did not in the least object to Mr. Frog's presence.