NERVES AND THE TAIL 41 



which the tail plays in the courtships of sparrows 

 and pigeons, or on the sprightly attitudes by which 

 birds of all sorts let off their spirits when shower 

 and sunshine have overfilled their hearts with glad- 

 ness. But birds twitch their tails constantly, with- 

 out meaning anything by it. The ceaseless wagging 

 of a wagtail is a mere habit of cheerfulness, like the 

 twirling of her thumbs by an idle Scotswoman. 

 The long tail is there and something must be done 

 with it. Look at the embarrassment which a nervous 

 young man shows about the disposal of his hands ; 

 how he thrusts them into his trouser pockets, hangs 

 them by their thumbs from the arm-holes of his 

 waistcoat, or gives them a walking-stick to play with. 

 I like to imagine what such a fellow would do with 

 a long tail if he had it — how he would wind it round 

 each leg in turn, rub up his back hair, and describe 

 figures on the floor. But no animal so self-conscious 

 as man could bear up long under the nervous strain 

 of having to think continually of its tail. It would 

 die young and the race would become extinct. 

 Perhaps it did. 



A final word on the conclusion of the whole matter, 

 for these reflections have a moral. As habit becomes 

 character, so expression hardens into feature. The 

 tail of a sheep grows downwards, but that of a goat 

 upwards, and this is the only infallible outward mark 

 of distinction between the two animals. But it 

 is the permanent record of a long history. The sheep 

 was never anything but sheepish ; the goat and its 



