248 LEAVES FROM THE BOOK OF NATURE. 



alive. The fearful hissing of the tortured creature is 

 heard by its kindred ; they come from under sunny banks, 

 from the low furze and scrubby bramble bushes, and as 

 they approach they are eagerly seized with hands defended 

 by leather gloves. Some have said men of Maine, we 

 surmise that it serves them right, because they are very 

 intemperate reptiles. Naturalists wine-bibbers themselves 

 have placed vessels filled with wine under hedges and 

 near piles of stones ; the thirsty vipers come from all 

 sides, and, soon getting drunk, fall into the hands of their 

 captors. 



Fish have no visible ear, it is said, and no external 

 avenue for sounds from a distance. Still, they hear with 

 great acuteness. On the continent of Europe, few castles 

 and villas are without the favorite pond, and its broad- 

 backed carp and speckled trout. They all learn to obey 

 the ringing of a bell, and come in eager haste to seize 

 the morsels that young and old are fond of seeing them 

 catch. Lacepede even speaks of some carps of venerable 

 age that were kept in the gardens of the Tuileries for 

 more than a hundred years. They would come not only 

 at the usual signal, but actually knew the names that 

 were given them, and rose to the surface as they were 

 called. They were, however, haughty and proud, for they 

 listened only to those they loved, and in vain were sweet 

 words, in vain even tempting morsels, offered by stran- 

 gers. The royal pensioners disdained to receive alms ; 

 they took only the crumbs that fell from the table of 

 their master, the monarch. But even plebeians among 

 fishes hear; and it is not the fastidious carp only that 



