356 



ANNUAL EEPOET SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1916. 



Sea is here reproduced (pi. 11), but we regret greatly that the au- 

 thor's powers of observation were not on a par with his wonderful 

 gift of dramatic diction, for a trifle more knowledge would have 

 •raised this chapter from the limbo of silly yarns to a production 



worthy of Victor Hugo. The fol- 

 lowing statement, which we quote 

 from the above work, contains 

 not a single atom of truth, al- 

 though the author attempts to 

 strengthen his case by referring 

 to men of science, from whose 

 works he undoubtedly gleaned 

 some of his rare information: 



The muscles swell, the fibers of -the 

 body are contorted, the skin cracks 

 under the loathsome oppression, the 

 blood spurts out and mingles horribly 

 with the lymph of the monster, which 

 clings to its victim by innumerable 

 hideous mouths. The hydra incorpo- 

 rates itself with the man, the man be- 

 comes one with the hydra. The spectre 

 lies upon you ; the tiger can only de- 

 vour you ; the devilfish, horrible, sucks 

 your lifeblood away. He draws you to 

 him, and into himself; while bound 

 down, glued to the ground, powerless, 

 you feel yourself gradually emptied 

 into this horrible pouch, which is the 

 monster. 



It would be unfair to leave the 

 Octopoda without calling atten- 

 tion to the efforts of some of the 

 modern story tellers. We select 

 for this purpose a clipping from 

 the San Francisco Chronicle, re- 

 produced in figure 2. This is a 

 marvelous combination of crab 

 and octopus; the artist hss termi- 

 nated not only every one of the 

 eight arms in a pair of pincers, 

 but he has even modified the body 

 into a claw. 



An endless number of instances might be quoted from the daily 

 press relating struggles between man and the octopus, not all 

 of which have terminated as favorably as those which we have 

 quoted. 



