A YOUNG NATURALIST. 25 



for instance, when we were walking along the mainroad, you were 

 always exclaiming that it ended in a point ; but you were con- 

 vinced that your eyes deceived you. It is just the same now : 

 these trees appear to be farther apart in proportion as we ap- 

 proach them ; and you will be quite surprised presently when you 

 see how distant they are from each other. The same illusion is 

 produced by the stars, which are millions of miles apart, and yet 

 appear so thick in the sky, that your brother Emile was regret- 

 ting, the other night, that he was not tall enough to grasp a 

 handful of them." 



" And don't forget," added Sumichrast, "that light and imagin- 

 ation often combine to deceive us." 



" Just as in the fable of the ' Camels and the Floating Sticks.'" 

 " Bravo ! my young scholar ; you 've heard that fable ?" 

 " Yes. One evening I was going into a dimly-lighted room, 

 and I fancied I saw a great gray man seated in a chair ; I cried 

 out, and ran away, afraid. Then papa took me by the hand and 

 led me into the dark room again, and I found that the giant which 

 had frightened me so much was nothing but a pair of trousers, 

 thrown over the back of an arm-chair. The next day mamma 

 made me learn the fable of the ' Camels.' " 



On our road I called Lucien's attention to a small thorny shrub, 

 a kind of mimosa, called huizachi by the Indians, who use its pods 

 for dyeing black cloth, and for making a tolerably useful ink. 

 The plain assumed by degrees a less monotonous aspect. Butter- 

 flies began to hover round us, and our young naturalist wanted 

 to commence insect-hunting. I restrained his ardour, as I wished 

 to keep our boxes and needles free for the rarer species which 

 we might expect to find as soon as we had reached more unin- 

 habited districts. At last, lagging a little, our party reached the 

 foot of the mountains. 



It was now five o'clock; night was coming on, so it was 

 highly necessary to look out for shelter. We came in view of a 

 bamboo-hut in the nick of time. An old Indian was reclining 

 in front of it, warming his meagre limbs in the rays of the 

 setting sun, clad in nothing but a pair of drawers and a hat with 

 a torn brim. He rose as we came near, and proff'ered us hospitality. 



