146 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW [15:4— Apr., 1919 



garden he is a great help, eating slugs, snails, lice and flies. When 

 a snail walks forth with his house on his back the lizard glues his 

 tongue to the snail and wipes off the shell with rubbing whacks on 

 the ground. 



The horned toad is a nomad lizard. Sometimes it has a hole 

 that it likes and goes back to in the evening. But usually it makes 

 a night burrow anywhere it happens to be wandering. " It bores 

 its head into the earth, prying the soil up with its spiked crown. 

 Then it twists its body in deeper, using the spines on its side to 

 enlarge the opening. None of these movements are abrupt. We 

 see the homed toad on the surface of the ground. Then we see the 

 lumpy barely-stirring soil which looks a little like a homed toad. 

 Then the soil is quiet, and there is no horned toad there. 



These lizards take the color of the soil they live upon. In desert 

 regions when the sand is pink, they are rosy in shade. . On black 

 lava ground their skin is shining black. On lichen-covered earth 

 they become grayish-green. In Central California they are brown- 

 ish grey, with darker blotches on each side of the neck. 



When winter comes, the horned toad digs a hole deep in a sunny 

 patch of earth, and lies dormant until summer. 



In August and September the toads bring forth their young alive, 

 enveloped in a thin sack of skin. The little horned toads are 

 smooth. They butt their heads through the skin and wiggle out. 

 Everybody likes them, they are so fat and jolly and likeable. We 

 have never heard of any human being killing a horned toad, as we 

 often strike down things just to be killing something. They inspire 

 no fear. 



We must be careful, however, not to call them by their right 

 names, to strangers. They are really lizards, or reptiles. But 

 only to their well-established friends may we call them that. 

 Most people are foolishly afraid of reptiles. "The Homed Rep- 

 tiles" would have a fearsome sound, wouldn't it?" 



It is quite likely that the round, fat lizard made so many friends 

 in the first place because he was called the horned toad. There is 

 so much in a name, and so little reason in stubborn prejudice. 

 Perhaps if we called snakes Live Ribbons, or Ornamented Worms, 

 or The Farmer's Friend, or any other name but plain snake, they, 

 too, would be better liked. 



