22 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



could. He replied that it was only a familiar spe- 

 cies of phyllopodous crustacean, known as Eu- 

 branchipus vemalis. 



I remember that our guide in the Maine woods, 

 seeing I had names of my own for some of the 

 plants, would often ask me the name of this and 

 that flower for which he had no word; and that 

 when I could recall the full Latin term, it seemed 

 overwhelmingly convincing and satisfying to him. 

 It was evidently a relief to know that these obscure 

 plants of his native heath had been found worthy 

 of a learned name, and that the Maine woods were 

 not so uncivil and outlandish as they might at first 

 seem: it was a comfort to him to know that he did 

 not live beyond the reach of botany. In like man- 

 ner I found satisfaction in knowing that my novel 

 fish had been recognized and worthily named; the 

 title conferred a new dignity at once ; but when the 

 learned man added that it was familiarly called the 

 "fairy shrimp," I felt a deeper pleasure. Fairy- 

 like it certainly was, in its aerial, unsubstantial 

 look, and in its delicate, down-like means of loco- 

 motion ; but the large head, with its curious folds, 

 and its eyes standing out in relief, as if on the 

 heads of two pins, were gnome-like. Probably the 

 fairy wore a mask, and wanted to appear terrible to 

 human eyes. Then the creatures had sprung out 

 of the earth as by magic. I found some in a fur- 

 row in a plowed field that had encroached upon a 

 swamp. In the fall the plow had been there, and 

 had turned up only the moist earth; now a little 



