92 



The Naturalist. 



is such a look of babyish innocence and beauty about the young eft, 

 that I am not at all surprised that so imaginative a writer as Kingsley 

 should take them as the prototype of his " Water Babies." Yet, 

 lovely as the baby is, and graceful ■ as they are in all their aquatic 

 movements, these poor newts labour under the same evil reputation as 

 the toad, viz., that they are deadly venomous. I had handled snakes 

 freely, and had learned to distinguish venomous from harmless species 

 long before I could summon up resolution enough to prove by personal 

 experience that the newt is one of the most harmless creatures which 

 God created. The tongue (as is the case with all the animals we are 

 discussing) is forked, soft and pliable to an exquisite degree, and 

 probably very sensitive. The newt feeds by snapping and gulping, 

 but does not use the tongue in the way the frog and toad do. Whilst 

 on this subject I may mention that the habit with certain reptiles 

 (chiefly snakes, but also to an extent among lizards aud newts) of 

 frequently protruding and retracting the tongue used to puzzle me as 

 to its cause, until casually reading Thompson on " The Passions of 

 Animals," I came across this sentence, which shed considerable light 

 upon the matter : " The connection between the tongue and touch in 

 snakes is an additional phenomenon, for it has been ascertained by 

 Hillman that the forked tongue is peculiarly serviceable for the latter 

 purpose — that of touch. They reconnoitre things by a brandishment 

 or vibration of the tongue, without actually touching tbem, and come 

 to the perception of stationary objects most probably by the pressure 

 of the air, for their sight and smell are extremely weak." 



Blindworms, or Slowworms {Anguis fragilis). — Books tell us these 

 are not worms at all, nor are they snakes, but a species of lizard with 

 undeveloped legs. They are not blind ; their eyes, though small, are 

 very bright. That they are not slow, I once had a very practical 

 proof. I was hunting about a manure-heap in South Wales, when I 

 came across a colony of blindworms. I boxed a handful, then com- 

 menced my trouble. Each time I tried to get another in, sundry heads 

 would poke up at the open lid. In my eagerness I tilted the lid 

 nearly off, and out popped three fine specimens on to the grass. I 

 whipiDed on the lid, caught runaway number one, and got him housed 

 as quickly as possible. The whole affair only occupied a few seconds, 

 yet when I came to look for numbers two and three, they had rendered 

 themselves so exceedingly scarce, that though I looked all round, upon 

 my hands and knees, I could not find any trace of them. Whatever I 

 may have called them then, I never thought of them as slow after that. 

 I found a great diversity in them as to colour and tinge — the difference 



