62 FRAGILITY OF THE BLINDWORM. 



when very young, when it twists and wriggles about in a singular fashion as often as it 

 is touched. 



The great fragility of the Blindworm is well known. By a rather curious structure of 

 the muscles and bones of the spine, the reptile is able to stiffen itself to such a degree, 

 that on a slight pressure, or trifling blow, or even by the voluntary contraction of the 

 body, the tail is snapped away from the body, and on account of its proportionate 

 length, looks just as if the creature had been broken in half. The object of this curi- 

 ous property seems to be to insure the safety of the animal. The severed tail retains, 

 or rather acquires, an extraordinary amount of irritability, and for several minutes after 

 its amputation, leaps and twists about with such violence, that the attention of the foe 

 is drawn to its singular vagaries, and the Blindworm itself creeps quietly away to some 

 place of shelter. 



Even after the movements have ceased, they may be again excited by touching the tail 

 with a stick, or even with the finger, when it will jump about with a vigor apparently 

 undiminished. On frequently repeating the process, however, the movements become 

 perceptibly less active, and after a while the only sign of movement will be a slight 

 convulsive shiver. Half an hour is, as far as my own experience goes, the limit to which 

 this irritability endures. 



I well remember meeting with an incident of this nature near Dover, where I came 

 suddenly upon a reptile among the rank grass and underwood, that I at first took for a 

 viper, and at which I aimed a thrust with a little twig of decaying wood, which broke at 

 once. Immediately after the thrust, something began to hop and plunge about most 

 violently just by my feet, and having a very wholesome dread of a viper's fangs, I jumped 

 back a step or two, to the great indignation of a swarm of bees, which had settled them- 

 selves in. the ruins of an old wooden hut close to the spot. They at once intimated their 

 displeasure in that wing-language so expressive to all bee-owners, so, hastily tossing the 

 writhing object to a distance with the shattered remnant of the stick, I got away from 

 the bees, and experimented for some time on the tail of the Blindworm, as it proved to 

 be. Even the flight through the air, and the heavy fall, seemed to have little or no 

 effect upon the irritability of the severed member, and when I reached it after its fall, 

 I found it hopping about quite merrily. 



When the tail of the Blindworm is thus snapped off, the scales of the body project 

 all round the fractured portion, forming a kind of hollow into which the broken end of 

 the tail can be slipped. 



According to popular notions, the Blindworm is a terribly poisonous creature, and by 

 many persons is thought to be even more venomous than the viper, whereas it is perfectly 

 harmless, having neither the will nor the ability to bite, its temper being as quiet as its 

 movements, and its teeth as innocuous as its jaws are weak. I fancy that the origin of 

 this opinion may be found in the habit of constantly thrusting out its broad, black, flat 

 tongue with its slightly forked tip ; for the popular mind considers the tongue to be the 

 sting, imagining it to be both the source of the venom and the weapon by which it is 

 injected into the body, and so logically classes all creatures with forked tongues under 

 the common denomination of poisonous animals. 



It is said that this reptile will bite when handled, but that its minute teeth and feeble 

 jaws can make no impression upon the skin ; and also that when it has thus fastened 

 on the hand of its captor, it will not release its hold unless its jaws be forced open. For 

 my own part, and I have handled very many of these reptiles, I never knew them attempt 

 to bite, or even to assume a threatening attitude. They will suddenly curl themselves 

 up tightly, and snap off their tails, but to use their jaws in self-defence is an idea that 

 seldom appears to occur to them. 



The pertinacity with which the notion of the Blindworm's venomous properties is 

 implanted in the rustic mind is really absurd. During the summer of this year, I passed 

 some little time in the New Forest, and having gone round to the farms in the neigh- 

 borhood, as distances of several miles are euphuistically called, begged to have all 

 reptiles brought to me that were discovered during the haymaking. In consequence, the 

 supply of vipers and snakes was very large, and on one occasion a laborer came to the 

 house, bare-headed, his red face beaming with delight, and his manner evincing a proud 



