FISHES. 



NOT alone in color do fishes resemble birds. In the 

 home-life and love of offspring a close resemblance 

 obtains. Many are nest-builders, erecting structures quite 

 as complicated as those of some birds, and hardly less elab- 

 orate in design and finish. 



Floating along some woodland stream, or strolling along 

 its grass-fringed margin, we have watched the domestic life 

 of the Sun-fish, the Eupomotis vulgaris of writers, that mot- 

 tled, bespangled beauty that seems always on hand to be 

 caught by the angler in default of more noble game. 



Where delicate grasses grow, and floating lily-pads cast 

 their shadows, there among the winding stems the Sun-fish 

 builds its home. Moving in pairs in and out among the 

 lilies near the shore, as if jointly selecting a site for a nursery, 

 they may be seen. The spot is generally a gravelly one, and, 

 once determined upon, no time is lost in pushing the work 

 to a speedy conclusion. For several inches around the 

 space is cleared of stems or roots, and these are carefully 

 carried away. The smaller roots are swept aside by well- 

 directed blows of their tails, or by mimic whirlpools which 

 the fishes, standing over the nest, create by their fins. The 

 stones are next taken up, the smaller ones in their mouths, 

 the larger being pushed out bodily, or fanned away by the 

 sweeping process, until an oval depression, with a sandy 

 bottom, finally appears. About the sides the stems of 

 aquatic verdure, which seem to have been purposely left, 

 may be seen standing, and these now naturally fall over, 

 oftentimes constituting the nest a perfect bower, with walls 



