Chatterbox, 1906 Part 114

ANSWER TO 'AN EASTERN PUZZLE' ON PAGE 355.

The old dervish divided the seventeen camels into the desired proportions by adding one of his own to the number, thus making it eighteen. The eldest brother then took his half--nine; the second his third--six; the third his ninth--two, making seventeen in all, and giving back the one camel over to its owner, the wise dervish.

PEEPS INTO NATURE'S NURSERIES.

XII.--ONE OF NATURE'S FAILURES.

We have now come to the last chapter of our series, and herein I propose to bring to your notice some curious facts which 'point a moral and adorn a tale' that should not be lost sight of.

Strange though it be, there are many creatures, among what we sometimes call the 'lower order of creation,' which give promise of great things during the earlier period of their lives, but later degenerate out of all recognition.

Let us take one or two of the more remarkable instances. Many of you, when at the seaside, must have found, clinging to rocks and sh.e.l.ls, peculiar, tough, leathery and somewhat bottle-shaped bodies, popularly known as 'sea-squirts,' from their habit of squirting out water when touched. But how many of you have any idea that these same 'squirts'

really belong to the great division of vertebrates or backboned animals?

Yet such is the case, though not even scientific men were aware of this until the facts which I am about to relate were discovered.

But before I proceed, I might add that while some of these sea-squirts lead solitary lives, fast anch.o.r.ed to the rock or sea-weed, others form colonies, while yet others, and more distantly related forms, are transparent and swim, sometimes in countless millions, at the surface of the sea, covering an area of several miles. Some of the stationary forms make coats for themselves of sand, others build them houses to live in.

While most are dull-coloured, some are, on the contrary, very brilliant. Their range in size is no less varied, some being almost microscopic, while others attain a length of as much as four feet.

But though so different in their adult stages, they all begin life as vertebrated or backboned animals, though in some this stage is more perfect than in others.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 2 FROG--TADPOLE]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 1 SEA SQUIRT--TADPOLE]

As you will see in the ill.u.s.tration (figs. 1 and 2) of one of these youngsters, the resemblance to the tadpole of the frog is most striking, and in some of the points wherein the sea-squirt differs from the tadpole, it represents a yet earlier structural stage which frogs have long since pa.s.sed through, and no longer repeat in the course of their growth. Take the case of the eye, for example; this in the young sea-squirt lies embedded in the brain, and is only dimly able to perceive light received through the transparent head; but the eye of all the backboned animals is really an outgrowth of the brain which has forced its way to the surface; here we see it in its primitive or original condition. The mouth in the young sea-squirt, again, opens on the top of the head instead of in the front, which is here modified to form a sucker. But the gills, by which this little creature breathes, expel the water by which they are bathed through a single hole at the side of the head, as in the frog tadpole; while in the possession of a brain, a spinal cord, and a soft backbone, both sea-squirt and tadpole agree.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 3 A YOUNG SEA SQUIRT CUT IN HALF AFTER THE TRANSFORMATION HAS GOT WELL ADVANCED]

Thus, then, the captor of one of these baby sea-squirts though he knew nothing of the peculiar after-history of the creature, would yet be sure that he had here a very young or 'larval' stage of one of the backboned animals. But he would be surprised indeed, as he watched the career of this little creature, to find it grow daily more sluggish, and at last fix itself by the sucker at the front of its head, and there remain as if in 'the sulks.' From this time onwards the change for the worse grows rapidly. This creature, as if indifferent to the great possibilities before it, or caring nothing for the good name of its race, speedily degenerates. As it will use none of the good gifts of Nature, one by one she takes them away--eye and brain are the first to go; then the tail begins to grow less and less (you can see the last remnants of a tail in fig. 3), and finally there is neither head nor tail, power of sight, nor power of motion; all that remains is an irregular-looking leathery lump, which scarcely seems to be alive (fig.

4). It feeds by drawing water through a hole at its upper end into a great throat pierced by gill-slits (shown in fig. 5, which represents a sea-squirt with the outside wall cut away); the water pa.s.ses out through the slits into a big chamber. From this chamber the water escapes by another hole (marked 'discharge' in fig. 5) to the outer world again; meanwhile, the food, consisting of microscopic animals, has been caught by a moving rope of slime running along the back of the throat, and so into the stomach. But what a fall! Think of it--a career full of promise, the equal of that of vertebrate animals, ending in an ignominious surrender of its birthright, and a drop to the level of the humble oyster!

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 4 LIVING SEA SQUIRT]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG 5 SQUIRT SECTION OF A SEA SQUIRT. THE OUTSIDE WALL OF THE BODY HAS BEEN CUT AWAY TO SHOW THE GILL OPENINGS, THROUGH ONE OF WHICH AN ARROW ESCAPES, WHILE ANOTHER ENTERS THE MOUTH]

W. P. PYCRAFT, F.Z.S., A.L.S.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Some one is lost in the snow, and La.s.sie knows it.'"]

THE LITTLE OLD WOMAN.

It was a bitter evening in mid-winter, the fire burned cheerily on the hearth, the great logs crackling and flaring up the wide chimney of a comfortable cottage home in one of the wildest parts of the Inverness-shire highlands. It was a shepherd's hut, and, as the storm continued the owner of the cottage rose and looked out of the window over the desolate expanse of moorland.

'Is it snowing still?' asked his wife, from her snug corner by the fire.

'Thick and fast,' replied he. 'Heaven help any poor creature on the moor to-night. Many a one has been frozen to death hereabouts before now.'

Presently, however, it ceased snowing, and, through a rift in the clouds, a star appeared, while at the same moment a whining and scratching noise was heard at the door. The shepherd opened it and whistled to his dog, but, inviting as the ruddy glow must have been to her doggish heart, 'La.s.sie' would not enter. Standing just on the threshold she whined once more, looking up in her master's face with dumb entreaty, then running off a few steps and looking back as though inviting him to follow.

The shepherd watched her curiously. 'All the sheep are in their folds,'

he said, 'and La.s.sie knows that as well as I do, but something is amiss with the creature to-night. What is it, La.s.sie?'

But the intelligent creature only whined again and moved still further away from the door.

'Give me my plaid, good wife,' said the shepherd, now fully persuaded that serious work lay before him. 'Give me my plaid, and warm your blankets, and you may as well brew a kettle of tea. Some one is lost in the snow, and La.s.sie knows it.'

As soon as the dog saw that her master was really following, she sprang forward with a joyous bark, then, settling down into a swinging trot, she led the way straight across the loneliest part of the bleak moor. It was a walk both difficult and dangerous, but the experienced shepherd followed steadily after his guide until, having come to a certain spot by no means differing in appearance from the rest of the dismal landscape, she suddenly stopped and began to dig wildly in the snow with her paws. The shepherd stooped down and pushed aside the dog, who was now quite contented to stand aside and watch, while her master took the case in hand. Very soon he extricated from the snow what seemed to be a mere bundle of clothing, but which, on closer inspection, proved to be the rigid form of a little old woman, poorly clad and quite insensible.

It was only the work of a few minutes for the stalwart shepherd to lift her into his arms as gently and tenderly as though she had been an infant, and to carry her away to his warm and sheltered cottage, where his kindly wife had everything in readiness for the succour of the half-frozen old woman.

But long hours pa.s.sed ere complete consciousness returned, and the poor wayfarer was able to tell her simple story. She was an Englishwoman from Liverpool--a widow with one only son, the dearest and best of sons. He was a soldier stationed at Fort George, but he had been ordered out to India, and she had felt that she could not let him go without once more looking on the dear face. Accordingly she had gathered together all her available means and had reached Glasgow by train. But in that city her difficulties began, her money was all spent, but the mother's love still burned brightly in her heart. She resolved to proceed on foot, and had actually accomplished her design so far, when, being overtaken by the sudden snowstorm, and having wandered from the road, she would certainly have perished but for the sagacity of the shepherd's dog.

How great was the delight of the poor old woman we may easily imagine, when she was told that she was actually within three miles of Fort George, and when the shepherd promised to go there in the morning and beg leave for her son to visit her at the cottage. But, alas! when morning dawned it became very evident that her strength had been too severely taxed; she was quite prostrate, and only half conscious of her surroundings. In these circ.u.mstances her kind host lost no time in starting on his humane errand, and, in the afternoon, mother and son met once more, but for the last time. The old woman had barely strength to whisper his name, but the look in her eyes was enough to show that she had her heart's desire, and that she could die in peace. A few days afterwards the little old woman was quietly laid to rest in the churchyard of the Highland village, and the good son was on his way to the Far East, carrying with him the memory of a mother's love.

THE SENSIBLE HARE.

A Fable.

Once upon a time, the beasts in a certain wood built a theatre in which plays were to be performed by the cleverest of the animals, for the amus.e.m.e.nt and instruction of the rest. Nearly all the animals took an interest in the scheme, and promised to support it, except the hare.

When asked by Reynard the Fox, who had been appointed manager, why he did not favour the idea, the hare replied: 'There is quite enough amus.e.m.e.nt in my own family, and is it likely that I am going to leave them all in the evening to find what is already provided for me at home?' The fox for once in his life was taken at a disadvantage, and did not know what to say.

There are plenty of pleasures at home if we know how to look for them.

CLOUD PICTURES.

Among the gra.s.s I love to lie, And watch the fleecy clouds pa.s.s by: For many pictures there I see, So clear although so far from me.

Sometimes across the blue there floats A stately fleet of white-sailed boats; On shining mountains' rugged crests The grey-winged cloud-birds seek their nests.

And o'er the sunset's radiant bar, Lone fairy lands most surely are, With ruby isles in lakes of gold, Where towers in crimson light unfold.

The black clouds gather from afar, As mighty armies march to war, And when they meet in thunder-crash, I see their spears of lightning flash.