128 
NATURE NOTES. 
From this the transition to the habits and general economy 
of the land and freshwater mollusca is an easy one. Their 
endurance of cold is remarkable, the freshwater forms will 
survive being frozen into solid ice and can become accustomed 
to live in the hot water of geyser basins, where the temperature 
attains something like 122° F. 
Apropos of food we learn that many of our common slugs will 
not touch green food at all, but nearly all of them will eat and 
enjoy animal food. The two kinds that do most damage in our 
gardens have the meanness to bury in the daytime and thus 
throw the blame of the mischief they have wrought on their 
larger and more innocent brethren, who with clear consciences 
do not resort to such subterfuge and suffer in consequence. 
Conspicuous amongst those invasions in the garden are the large 
grey slug, spotted and lined with black, and the yellow slug; 
the former is exclusively a fungus eater, whilst the latter is a 
lover of the larder and given to a milk diet. The worm-eating 
slug is of course one of our best friends. Whilst all are voracious 
feeders it is remarkable what long fasts some snails can endure. 
Not only do they remain dormant throughout the winter in our 
gardens huddled together in some cosy retreat under ivy, or in an 
old flower-pot, but instances are not wanting in which species from 
arid localities have survived the close confinement of a pill box 
for years. Nor must the classic instance be forgotten of the 
desert snail, who remained for four years gummed down on 
a tablet in the British Museum. This “ Rip van Periwinkle,’’ 
as a friend of the present writer humorously styled it, when 
released from durance vile, proceeded to make a hearty meal and 
lived for some months afterwards, adding even to its shell. 
A curious faculty our garden pests possess is that of finding 
their way home to some favourite lurking place, or of seeking 
food ; and Mr. Cooke tells a funny story of one snail that had 
found food in a neighbouring garden, returning to fetch a weaker 
mate and piloting it to the land of plenty “ over the garden wall.’’ 
The strength of snails is less familiar to those who have not 
experimented with them, nor incautiously introduced their finger 
within the shell of living oyster ; but a Mr. Sanford appears to 
have induced an unfortunate “ john-jeeks ” to drag across a 
smooth table “twelve reels of cotton, a pair of scissors, a screw- 
driver, a key, and a knife, weighing in all no less than 17 oz., or 
more than fifty times its own weight.’’ 
Space will not suffice to tell of all the interesting things to be 
met with in this portion of the work, nor to enlarge, as Mr. Cooke 
is able to do, on the enemies of the snails and the means of 
defence the latter employ against them. We must, however, 
call attention to one prominent instance in which immunity from 
attack is secured by a quaint form of concealment ; namely, in 
the genus Xenophora, the animals of which build into their shells 
pieces of stone, coral, shell, or even whole shells, whatever in 
fact happens to be most plentiful on the beach they inhabit till 
