those which have tails of serviceable size. The
marine lizards of the Galapagos, or Encantada
Islands, when they swim, fold their legs close to
their sides, and move by lateral oscillations of
the tail. So does the alligator—so does the
iguana, when he takes the water—and so does
the snake when driven from the bank, converting
almost his whole length into one laterally-
moving propeller. This traditional enemy of
our race is not, however, as a little girl of our
acquaintance once remarked of a garter snake,
"all tail," but is distinctly separable into head,
neck, and body also; and anatomists have, in
some species, detected even rudimentary legs.

The tail of the alligator and that of the shark,
also, are, upon suitable occasions, convertible
into offensive weapons of no small power; and,
on their capture, it is advisable to secure or
disable, as soon as possible, this powerful flail,
which sweeps everything before it. Perhaps it
was of such instances that Milton had heard,
when he wrote in his Hymn on the Nativity,
how

        The old dragon under ground,
         In closer limits bound,
      Not half so far casts his accustomed sway;
         And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,
         Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

Here we see the despised member is not quite
immentionable by writers of some standing. We
might quote more from the same authority of

         Typhon huge ending in snaky twine,

or of the

                     Serpent, standing on his rear,
      Circular base of rising folds; that towered
      A surging maze;

or, from an older poem still—how Behemoth
"moveth his tail like a cedar," as well as many
another allusion, were it necessary still further
to dignify our subject. But we believe it to be
needless.

Before leaving the consideration of the tail
as an offensive weapon, we may refer to the
sting-ray or trygon, which bears a sharp and
serrated spine midway upon its tail, which can
inflict a severe wound on its incautious captor.
The virulent weapons borne by scorpions and
other insects at their hinder extremities are not
properly to be cited as illustrations of our
subject; for these spiteful appendages are only
situated caudally, not tails in themselves, and
differ merely in location from the similar and
more deadly weapons borne by venomous
serpents in their jaws, and by centipedes on one of
their front pairs of feet.

Birds put their tails to more uses than one.
Not to recur to their ornamental capacity,
noticed in speaking of the peacock and pheasant,
we may look at them in their guiding function,
as rudders to steer the bird in its rapid flight.
That they serve this purpose is undeniable; for,
if the reader will do as we did once (we admit
that it was in boyish mischief, and not in scientific
investigation), and pull out a pigeon's
terminal feathers, his uncertain and staggering
flight will at once prove that he has lost a
controlling member. In further proof of this it
may be remarked that, while birds of rapid and
well-controlled flight—such as the falcons and
swallows—have tails of very useful dimensions,
the tribes which make little or no use of their
wings have no tail of any consequence.
Instances of this are seen in the penguins, grebes,
and loons, among aquatic birds, and the
struthious tribes among terrestrial forms. The ostrich,
with its feeble wings, has but a tuft of soft
plumes as a caudal ornament; and the apteryx
of New Zealand, in which the wings are merely
rudimentary and only detected on close scrutiny,
has no tail at all.

In some birds, the tail forms a sort of third
limb or support, so that the bird is practically
a tripod. So it is with the woodpecker, who
holds tight to the tree with his claws, while his
tail feathers, braced against the bark below, keep
him from falling backward or slipping down, and
support him most comfortably and conveniently
in his erect position. If you examine his tail-
feathers, you will find them worn to sharp points
by friction; and the same is true of those of the
chimney-swallow, who clings in the same manner
to the rough sides of his native flue.

Among quadrupeds, the kangaroo seems to
make use of his tail in an analogous way, as he
sits erect and views the land around him. More
than this, it has been reported that this member,
which, with him, is very stout and muscular,
aids very much in his flying leaps, and that, if
deprived of its assistance, his bounds are
awkward and much diminished in length. But for
the truth of this allegation we will not be
answerable.

Other quadrupeds find their tails exceedingly
convenient in various ways. When a boy, we
were told how the squirrel used his as a blanket
on retiring for the night. There is an authentic
instance of this kind in the great ant-eater of
Guiana, who regularly covers himself with the
bushiest of tails, when he curls up to sleep.
His smaller relative, the lesser ant-eater, makes
a different use of his. It is long and prehensile,
"and," says an accurate authority, "when the
creature is about to sleep, it hides its muzzle in
the fur of its breast, and, letting its fore-feet
hang down on each side, wraps the whole tightly
round with its tail." And a very snug arrangement
too.

Many monkeys use their tails in the same
manner, and it is most convenient to them as a
fifth prehensile limb, by which they swing and
dangle merrily "under the blossom that hangs
from the bough." A better arrangement for a
fruit-picking animal cannot be imagined; and it
is by a simple exaggeration of this power that
the very good story of their suspension-bridges
already mentioned has been made.

We count for a fable the story how the beaver
makes of his flattened and scaly tail a sledge
whereon to drag little burdens, and a trowel
wherewith to temper and piaster the mud mortar
of his dams, and the walls of his little Venice.
Yet we believe its peculiar form is not without
some object, and that it, as well as the