176 



THE POPULAR EDUCATOE. 



reason that he is hungry, and after a dinner submits to a fast of 

 several days' duration. Some readers may ask how a respectably- 

 grown frog can pass down the small throat of a snake ? Such 

 inquirers have probably never seen a boa-constrictor swallow a 

 goat, horns and all. Those who have witnessed this most 

 demonstrative but unpicturesque spectacle, will be aware of the 

 wonderful elasticity and expansive power of a serpent's jaw. 



The snake deposits her eggs, to the number of sixteen, twenty, 

 or even thirty, in some place where the young are hatched by the 

 heat of the sun. These eggs are soft, held together by a glu- 

 tinous substance, and thus have 

 the appearance of a chain. The 

 mother has, of course, no trouble 

 in nursing or educating her family. 

 They who see the ringed snake 

 just after the change of its skin, 

 will be disposed to admit the 

 existence of some beauty even 

 in this reptile. The brilliant and 

 varied tints of " the enamelled 

 skin" might make some creatures 

 vain, but the snake takes the 

 whole as a matter of course. 

 How often does the reptile get a 

 new coat in the season ? Snakes 

 are, in this respect, like men, 

 some having few changes of 

 raiment, others many. A vigor- 

 ous and growing snake will, in 

 some summers, get five new skins ; 

 others may find one fresh suit 

 sufficient. How is the change 

 made? The creature, as it 

 throws off the old skin, completely 

 reverses it, so that the inner 

 side becomes the outer. The old 



covering splits at the neck, like an over-tight coat, and the snake 

 then wriggles out by rubbing against bushes and brambles. One 

 fact is especially worthy of notice, that the new skin is com- 

 pletely formed underneath before the old one is thrown off. 

 Thus the reptile has not to seclude itself from society until a 

 new dress is ready. Though the snake is its own tailor, it does 

 not obtain new suits without some trouble, and probably 

 suffering. The animal seems to become blind for a short time 

 before the change, and its torpor is a sign of general ill-health. 

 Perhaps the reptile would agree with Gilbert White in his 

 description of its condition at such times, as " an awkward, 

 uneasy situation." Such is the 

 price paid, even by a snake, for a 

 new coat. 



Some readers may have seen 

 our common English snake wrig- 

 gling through the meadow grass, 

 or crossing a country lane. Such 

 will smile at the absurd pictures 

 of a serpent's movements in old 

 popular prints. The reptile 

 really pushes itself forwards by 

 the friction of its ribs against the 

 earth, thus " gripping the ground" 

 like the feet of a caterpillar. The 

 body is not lifted up, in a series of 

 wave-like coils, pretty to look at 

 in a picture, but impossible to 

 perform in fact. 



These animals can easily cross pools or rivers, being first-rate 

 swimmers. The ringed snake is as fond of the water as a duck, 

 and may sometimes be seen swimming merrily on the surface of 

 a brook, its head raised a little above the water. Some persons 

 may here ask whether the snake which thus delights in the 

 water is not a distinct species, and therefore to be classed among 

 the "water-snakes?" Let any careful observer catch one of 

 these so-called " water-snakes," and then point out the difference 

 oetween it and the common ringed snake. He will not, we 

 think, be able to find any distinction between them. Persons 

 seeing a snake in the water, and forgetting the fondness of the 

 Nutrias torquata, for a bath, have inferred that the aquatic reptile 

 must be a distinct species. We venture to think that the 



COMMON SNAKE. 



HEAD OP A POISONOUS SNAKE, SHOWING THE POISON BAG (A) 

 AND THE CURVED FANO (B) THROUGH WHICH THE POISON 

 IS INJECTED. 



" water- snake " is only the ringed species in its swimming 

 moods. No doubt there are water-serpents in tropical climates, 

 and even the "great sea serpent" may yet be brought to the 

 Zoological Gardens, but these peculiar forms of serpent life are 

 not found in England. 



Can a snake be educated or tamed ? Yes ; our ringed speci- 

 men has been so far civilised and domesticated as to distinguish 

 its master, come at his call, and seek for shelter and warmth 

 under his coat-sleeve. However, very few persons, except the 

 travelling showman, undertake the training of these reptiles. 



The viper, or venomous British 

 serpent, now demands attention. 

 Our opportunities for examining 

 this creature are not likely to be 

 numerous, and most persons will 

 decline a close acquaintance. In 

 some counties the country people 

 regard the adder and viper as 

 distinct animals, looking upon 

 the former as the male, and the 

 latter as the female. This suppo- 

 sition is entirely wrong. The two 

 names denote the same reptile. 

 Though the running together of the 

 spots along the back of the viper 

 may seem to distinguish it from the 

 ringed snake, not much reliance 

 can be placed on the colour of the 

 skin. This is sometimes of an 

 olive tint, at others brownish, 

 ruddy, whitish, or almost black. 

 The viper, or adder, is our only 

 British type of the poisonous ser- 

 pents. The fang of this snake 

 deserves an attentive considera- 

 tion, as it shows how completely 



the reptile has been fitted with a perfect poisoning machine. 

 The venom tooth or fang is laid down on the gum of the upper 

 jaw when the viper is not excited, but suddenly raised by a 

 peculiar action of the jaw-bones at the moment of attack. The 

 sharp fang first pierces the flesh of the victim, and in that 

 instant the poison is poured through a tube in the fang, and so 

 injected into the wound. But whence does the venom come ? 

 At the bottom of the perforated tooth are many little receptacles 

 for holding the poison, and also a complex apparatus for pro- 

 ducing the deadly fluid. When the fang pierces the skin of an 

 animal, the poison is at that moment pressed out of the reser- 

 voirs and through the tooth. 

 Though the yellowish poison is 

 so powerful in its operation on 

 the bitten animals, it appears to 

 be without either taste or smell. 

 Experimenters have swallowed 

 the viper's poison without harm, 

 but this bold test is not likely 

 to be often repeated. Is the bite 

 fatal ? To small animals, and 

 sometimes even to dogs, but very 

 rarely to human beings in this 

 climate, unless they are in an 

 unhealthy state when bitten. 

 Olive oil rubbed on the part is 

 deemed the best remedy, but it is 

 sure not to be at hand just when 

 wanted. 



Wonderful medicinal virtues were formerly ascribed to soup 

 made from stewed adders, and some enthusiasts thought it 

 capable of preserving female beauty. Woe to the vipers if this 

 opinion should ever become popular among the ladies. Such 

 soup would, probably, be less injurious to the digestion than 

 some of the modern cosmetics to the skin. 



One last word to the reader. We ask no pity for the viper ; 

 kill him, if it so please you ; but let the harmless ringed snake 

 and the innocent slow-worm pass without assault and battery. 

 They are quite willing to keep the peace with all, if permitted. 

 Is this agreed upon ? Very well ; then we part as friends ; 

 both reader and writer being at liberty to make war on the 

 viper only. 



