THE SNAKE AND ADDER. 31 
Last May I brought up from Wisley, and deposited in the Zoo- 
logical Gardens, Regent’s Park, one with an almost perfectly 
white ground-colour. This specimen is now quite a dark brown, 
The food of the adder consists chiefly of shrews and field-mice. 
One which I caught last year—the original of the illustration in 
Mr. M. C. Cooke's work on British Reptiles—threw up three full 
grown mice, so that adders are of use in keeping down vermin. 
The fangs of the adder, nearly half-an-inch in length, are situated 
in the upper jaw. They move ona hinge, and when not in use 
are folded along the palate. They are hollow, and at the root 
of each is a little bag of venom, so that the fangs make 
punctures, and at the same time poison is introduced into the 
wound. The venom is hurtful from being thus introduced into 
the blood; it might be swallowed without causing the least 
injury. It is just to add that the adder never attempts to attack 
a human being except in self-defence. It always glides away 
into the nearest thicket on hearing any one approach. ‘There is 
therefore no reason why the creature should be persecuted. This 
reptile is capable of almost incredibly long fasts. Mr. Ullyett lately 
kept a couple for six weeks, during all which time they touched 
nothing but water, although mice, &c., ‘all alive’? were supplied 
ad libitum: yet, when set at liberty, they seemed as lively as 
when first caught. The adder can climb well, and is not unfre- 
quently found in nests, into which they climb for the sake of 
sucking the eggs, of which they are very fond. Three were this 
spring found in a blackbird’s nest in Enfield Chase, Middlesex. 
Adders’ fat is in great request among the peasantry as an ointment 
for cuts, and it is the best remedy for the creature’s own bite. 
There is in serpents, as in all other living creatures very much to 
admire in the wonderful adaptation of their structure to their 
mode of life; much to make us acknowledge that the Hand that 
made them is Divine. W. R. Tare. 
Grove Place, Denmark Hill, London. 
‘*No scientific truth can possibly be too trifling or unimportant 
to be worthy of preservation.”—Sir J. E. Samira. 
