isioNsvcn 



All that came to me was a new simile — as slender 

 as a baby copepod's chance of life. 



Two things I have always regretted, first, that 

 the ethics of social manners have always forbidden 

 my exclaiming over the delectable odor of my 

 hostess' dinner — course by course; and secondly 

 that it is seemingly impossible to write of the beauty 

 of such a sight as was afforded by the interior of the 

 body of the blue shark. Years and years in the open 

 have doubtless sharpened my sense of smell beyond 

 what one usually possesses with propriety, and as to 

 internal organs, the tints and shades, the forms and 

 arrangement are so wonderful, together with the 

 adaptations and perfect correspondence to outward 

 shape, habits, food and method of feeding, that a 

 detailed account would be anything but an anatomy 

 of melancholy. Only ancestral and ontogenetic 

 habits prevent me from having a try. It is an amus- 

 ing world where anyone would peruse with interest 

 the details of a shark's heart, the mind recalling 

 poetry and valentines, whereas the exquisite color 

 of the gall-bladder and the fine architecture of the 

 spiral valve far transcend the first mentioned organ, 

 which is exactly as far distant from the seat of the 

 emotions as it is from the brain. 



It is difficult to omit mention of the stomach for 

 it was no longer an internal organ, but was inverted 

 and protruding from the mouth, looking like a 

 many-folded tongue. I saw a bit of bright color and 

 found it was a large and beautifully shaped jaw of 

 a squid. I pried open the mouth a little and ex- 



178 



