'ALL THAT GLITTEES IS NOT GOLD.' 315 



' Of course it is/ said he. ' I guess with all your 

 knowledge of natural history it took you some time 

 to find that out ; some of you reading men ain't as 

 smart as you make believe. I 'd like to buy most of 

 you at my price, and sell you at your own/ 



And the old fellow chuckled with satisfaction, as 

 he thought to himself how he had sold me. 



' So ye bees do not make honey for yourselves ; 

 Se ye sheep do not bear wool for yourselves,' 



is possibly not a literal, but a rough translation from 

 a favourite author, but as true now as it was the day 

 it was inscribed. The thought calls me back to 

 home, to a little episode which did more to open my 

 eyes to the humbug of this age and world than aught 

 that ever occurred in my life. 



It may be a digression from my narrative, but 

 it may impress upon the youthful reader the good 

 old proverb, ' All that glitters is not gold/ and thus 

 do him a benefit. 



I was asked to visit an establishment in the me- 

 tropolis of the world at which an immense fish was 

 to be viewed. Visitors were numerous ; one called it 

 one thing, one another, but these were lesser lumin- 

 aries of the scientific clique. At length a buzz of 

 welcome and sycophantish worship told that a great 

 gun had arrived to view the unfortunate now 

 strongly smelling late denizen of the deep. Like 

 Metamora, both in form and feature, I never met a 

 more amusing creature, yet so simple that he preferred 

 talking in language that much approached the dialect 



