IN FEATHERS AND FUR. 347 
The bunches of fringe on the bottom, are what are called 
tangles ; and their object is to entangle and bring up many a deli- 
cate creature which would be crushed or broken in the general 
mass. 
When brought up from the depths of the sea, these tangles 
are often one mass of living creatures. I have found in some 
paper, a description of the hauling up of the Dredge, which is 
better than I can tell it to you, and I will give it to you just as I 
found it. 
"Prof. Verriirs invention — the Cradle Sieve — is semi-cylin- 
drical ; about three feet long, fifteen inches wide. While the Dredge 
is coming up, this Sieve is hung over the side of the vessel, and ulti- 
mately, the Dredge is lifted over and into the Sieve. The lower end 
of the Dredge net is then untied and opened, and the Dredge lifted 
a little, and the entire contents slide out of the net gently into the 
Sieve. If, now, there is no anxiety to secure without injury the 
very smallest and most delicate specimens, and there is no occa- 
sion for haste — perhaps to repeat the haul — the Cradle-Sieve is 
covered with a tight-fitting lid, lowered overboard, and allowed to 
drag by a tow-line in the water till the mud is washed out. If, 
however, there is time enough — as there usually is — a stream of 
water from the pump (propelled by steam power), is passed through 
a few lengths of hose into the Sieve while it is hanging over the 
ship's side. The hose in the hands of some one of the naturalists, 
is, of course, entirely under his control, and by moderating the 
force, volume and direction of the stream, he can wash out of the 
mud his most delicate specimens, with as much care for their safety 
as he chooses to devote. No one, however indifferent he may be 
to scientific pursuits, can escape the infectious ardor with which 
the naturalists crowd around the spread tarpaulin, as the contents 
of the Dredge, Trawl, or Tangles are brought to the deck. The 
spiteful little reeling engine has pulled its load up to the davit, and 
the practiced crew lift the burden carefully and deposit it on the 
sailors table cloth — the tarpaulin. Down on their knees go the 
scientists around it ; this is their homage to nature. Bottles with 
alcohol, jars with glycerine, dishes and bowls with sea water, pails, 
tubs, and all kinds of receptacles are brought into requisition. 
The naturalists, all but one, thrust their fingers in the muddy mass, 
pull out their plums after the fashion of Jack Horner, announce 
the name of their wriggling captives, and plump them into the pot, 
