62 FAMILIAR LIFE IN FIELD AND FOREST. 



the setting of the sun. When the last hngering rem- 

 nants of life are fled the snake is dead, that is all. 

 As for the tongue— that delicate and marvelously 

 sensitive organ — it is absurd to think so soft a thing 

 is a sting, and ridiculous to suppose it is adapted to 

 licking ; the snake is dull of sight and hearing, and 

 this dainty tongue makes up for the deficiency by 

 pursuing investigations by touch. 



Snakes are, as a rule, remarkably prolific, and bear 

 anywhere from seven to one hundred or more young. 

 Sometimes the eggs of certain species hatch in the 

 oviduct ; hence the term ovoviviparous. It is easy to 

 understand, therefore, that some ignorant person cut- 

 ting open a snake in the early spring, and unaware of 

 the true position of the stomach, should think that the 

 creature had swallowed the young. But there are 

 those who have very vague ideas of diseases as well as 

 stomachs, and I remember a backwoodsman who 

 during the greater part of one hot summer suffered 

 terribly, according to his own account, from cholera 

 infantum ! 



As for the swallowing process of the snake, that 

 has a length which words can only inadequately 

 measure. It is something like Milton's "linked 

 sweetness long drawn out," without the sweetness. 

 As a matter of fact, when one's teeth spread over 

 one's palate it can not be expected that one's taste 



