208 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 
canary, dog, mouse, etc.; but the serpent is not of 
them; on the contrary, the not too numerous facts 
we possess which relate to the comparative longevity 
of animals give support to the universal belief that 
the reptilians—tortoise, lizard, and serpent—are 
extremely long-lived. 
Now this fact—namely, that science and 
popular belief are at one in the matter—might very 
well have suggested to the author a more suitable 
ending to the story of Elsie than the one he made 
choice of. I will even be so venturesome as to say 
what that ending should be. Let us imagine the 
girl capable of love, even of “a dull ache of passion,” 
doomed by the serpent-nature in her, which was 
physical if anything, to a prolonged existence, 
serpent-like in its changes, waxing and waning, 
imperceptibly becoming dim as with age in the 
wintry season, only to recover the old brilliant 
beauty and receive an access of strength in each 
recurring spring. Let us imagine that the fame of 
one so strange in life and history and of so excellent 
an appearance was bruited far and wide, that many 
a man who sought her village merely to gratify an 
idle curiosity loved and remained to woo, but 
feared at the last and left her with a wound in his 
heart. Finally, let us imagine that as her relatives 
and friends, and all who had known her intimately, 
stricken with years and worn with grief, faded one 
by one into the tomb, she grew more lonely and 
apart from her fellow-creatures, less human in her 
life and pursuits; joy and sorrow and all human 
