2IO Cincinnati Society of Natural History. 



assured me, "and they have a knowledge of things to come." "I 

 saw one for the first time in the year after my mother died," he 

 added in a whisper, and I sometimes think it must be her criado — 

 her messenger; she wants to send me a warning. A less propitious 

 familiar, a venomous species of spreading adder, occasionally 

 enters the human habitations of the American tropics at the risk of 

 its life, though the Mexicans sometimes tolerate it as a lesser evil, 

 especially in such outhouses as a banana kiln, where rats have to 

 be kept down by foul or fair means. 



Even the Mephistis chinga, or common sknuk, is apt to share 

 the roof of God's viceregent by burrowing under the floor of a 

 convenient country house, without ever molesting his landlord or 

 even crossing the path of the prowling watch-dog. In case of an 

 accidental encounter he will try to save himself by any expedient 

 before resorting to his decisive weapon, evidently disliking to risk 

 sensational results of that ultima ratio. That disposition to spare 

 the neighborhood of their headquarters seems, indeed, an almost 

 universal instinct, even of the lower animals. 



My Georgia country-house having stood vacant for two years, 

 a swarm of hornets had established themselves under the roof of a 

 rear porch, and seemed at first to resent my intrusion, but in the 

 course of a week apparently concluded to waive their pre-emption 

 claims, and ever after kept the peace in spite of manifold persecu- 

 tions On rainy days one of my pet monkeys makes a rafter of 

 that porch a favorite roost, and had never got any reason to repent 

 his confidence in the pacific disposition of the winged community 

 in the immediate proximity of his perch, though his neighbors be- 

 longed to that especially aggressive steel-blue variety, which out in 

 the woods are apt to flaunt their battle-flag on very slight provoca- 

 tion. One day a mischievous youngster tried to precipitate a con- 

 flict by flinging a stone against the board directly under the nest. 

 A formidable posse at once sallied with a buzz that made the mon- 

 key retreat to the further corner of his perch, but after booming 

 about for a couple of minutes in a sort of puzzled and reproachful 

 way, the skirmishers returned to report for further instructions, 

 and soon after resumed their day's work as if nothing had hap- 

 pened. 



The beef-packers of Northern Mexico are haunted by dogs of 

 such vile breeds that they frequently associate with the more than 

 half-wild perros pclones, or prairie curs, that visit the scrap-piles in 

 cold winters. But neither dogs nor curs ever trouble the poultry- 



