NATURAL SCIENCE NEWS. 



99 



strikes bottom, and to keep him 

 down when he walks on the bot- 

 tom. Fifteen to twenty fathoms 

 is the ordinary depth; but beyond 

 this, to forty fathoms (240 feet,) 

 which is reached in the Mediter- 

 ranean, more preparation is neces- 

 sary. The man, standing naked 

 in the boat, with the greatest en- 

 ergy practices inflating his chest to 

 the utmost for about ten minutes, 

 and, when the blood is thoroughly 

 oxygenated by this means, seizes 

 the stone and plunges headlong 

 into the sea. 



When the Mediterranean diver 

 is at a great depth, he often re- 

 mains, in trying to fill the net-bag 

 which is tied about his neck, until 

 he feels the sensation of drowning 

 — the desire to sleep. Alarmed by 

 this last symptom of exhausted na- 

 ture, he jerks the rope which he 

 has taken down with him, and is 

 hastily pulled up by his compan- 

 ions in the boat. If he loses the 

 rope he is usually drowned. The 

 return to surface, where the pres- 

 sure is so much reduced, causes the 

 blood to flow from mouth, nostrils 

 and eyes;and this, with the absence 

 of normal inspiration for so long a 

 time, brings on a fainting fit which 

 lasts, according to the depth, for a 

 longer or shorter time. Two min- 

 utes is the usual duration of a dive, 

 and three and a half the utmost ex- 

 tent of endurance. The pressure of 

 the water on all parts of the body 

 at a depth of 20 fathoms ( 120 feet) 

 is about 50 pounds to the square 

 inch — at 50 fathoms, 75 pounds, or 

 five atmospheres. Think of such 

 "an enormous pressure all over the 

 body when one is trying to hold 

 his breath! Should the diver 

 breathe out the air he holds in his 

 inflated lungs he would never be 

 seen alive again. From this ter- 

 rible tension arises the curious 

 habit the divers have of blowing 

 rather than breathing out the air 

 the moment their heads rise above 

 the surface of the water, while the 

 fresh air is drawn in with a loud, 

 quick respiration. It sounds much 

 like the "blowing" of a whale or 

 porpoise, and is percisely anala- 

 gous. 



In American waters, divers never 

 go deeper than about a hundred 

 feet. This is also nearly the limit 

 for those using the cumbersome 

 armor, which the divers are loth 

 to wear, considering it more dan- 

 gerous than to go down naked. The 

 skin is burned all off the shoulders 

 of the habitual divers, by the com- 

 bined action of sun and salt water; 

 and their hair becomes of a green- 

 ish tint during the summer, return- 



ing to the natural color only when 

 the diving has ceased for the sea- 

 son. The coarsest kinds of sponges 

 only, are taken by such rude meth- 

 ods as harpooning or dredging. 



The preparation of the Mediter- 

 ranean sponges for market is con- 

 ducted with care, they being beaten 

 or trodden out. The American 

 sponges, on the contrary, after be- 

 ing exposed to the air about twelve 

 hours ( when they are said to be 

 "killed") are then pitched into 

 pens formed of stakes driven close 

 together in shallow water. Here 

 all the membranes speedily decom- 

 pose, and leave but little "flesh" 

 in the skeleton which is then 

 squeezed and washed out by the 

 fishermen. The sponges are then 

 dried and bleached in the sun, 

 sorted into sizes, strung upon 

 strings, and sold to the agents. 

 These take them to the warehouses, 

 where the hard calcareous bases, 

 by which they were attached to the 

 ocean bottom, are trimmed off. A 

 second sorting according to quality 

 is made, and they are compressed 

 into bales ready for forwarding to 

 London or New York. American 

 sponges, besides being employed 

 in the bath and hospital, are torn 

 apart and used as stuffing for 

 cushions, mattresses, etc., and for 

 the manufacture of certain rough 

 kinds of cloth. 



The foregoing facts are selected 

 from Hyatt's "Commercial and 

 Other Sponges," the third of the 

 series of pamphlets published by 

 the D. C. Heath & Co., of Boston. 



A Few Field Notes. 



I give below a few notes copied 

 from my "Field Book." 



I have thought best not to re- 

 vise them, but give them just as 

 they are written in the book. 



I am sorry to say that I have 

 had no opportunity to study or col- 

 lect since May 1st as, owing to 

 change of business I have had to 

 move into the city. 



Jan. 28th. It has been snowing 

 for four days with occasional stops 

 of a few hours, and today there is 

 about seven inches of snow on the 

 ground. I took a little stroll along 

 the pasture brook this afternoon. 

 The scenery is very beautiful in 

 some places where the tall broken 

 horse weeds, and briars and small 

 shrubbery is bent half over under 

 the weight of the glistening snow, 

 the scenery was grand beyond dis- 

 cription. In one place in a bend 

 of the brook, where a clump of 

 willows, weeds, briers and small 



bushes fill up the semi-circle made 

 by the winding brook, I stood en- 

 tranced for about fifteen minutes 

 admiring the magnificent picture. 

 Had I been an artist I would have 

 copied one of the most beautiful 

 winter landscape pictures imagin- 

 able. Found a single pair of 

 quails, a few red birds, worm 

 eaters, snow birds, and any num- 

 ber of blackbirds and crows, but 

 as yet no migrants. 



Jan. 30th. Took a stroll this 

 afternoon, nothing of importance 

 to mention, except a case of woe- 

 ful ignorance. Met a farmer out 

 hunting and after a few moments 

 conversation I glanced towards a 

 willow tree, on a branch of which 

 sat three little Junco's, wfth pre- 

 tended ignorance I asked what 

 kind of birds they were. "Them's 

 blackbirds," he replied, I was not 

 a little surprised, and remarked, 

 "are they not rather small for 

 blackbirds." ':0, no," said he, 

 thems the small kind of black- 

 birds." I made no farther com- 

 ment on the subject, and did not 

 try to enlighten him on the matter; 

 but I confess I am at loss to un- 

 derstand how it is one born and 

 raised on a farm, would not recog- 

 nize a blackbird, now I will not be 

 surprised if he should call an owl 

 an eagle. 



Jan. 31st. As I went to the P. 

 O. this afternoon I noticed a little 

 bird sitting among some elm 

 sproughts on the roadside, I stop- 

 ped to observe the little fellow and 

 found it to be a tufted titmouse, I 

 stepped to within five feet of the 

 bush, but birdie never moved a 

 muscle except to wink at me now 

 and then — it is the first one I have 

 seen this season. I notice a great 

 many small birds are being killed 

 this winter by the severe weather, 

 and those feathered cannibals. 

 Coming home from the P. O. I 

 saw a flock of wild geese light in 

 an open field about a quarter of a 

 mile distant; when I got home I 

 went to a second 'Story window in 

 order to get a good view of them. 

 I counted thirty-seven, the ground 

 being slightly covered with snow 

 they could be plainly seen. They 

 fed on the frozen wheat about three 

 quarters of an honr and then left. 



Feb. nth. On my way to the 

 P. O. this morning I saw for the 

 first time in many years, a live 

 specimen of the Pigmy Owl. I 

 was much surprised and greatly 

 pleased; I stcod watching him some 

 time but as I had no gun, this rare 

 bird made his escape. 



Feb. 20th. The birds are re- 

 turning and the very first to arrive 



