iron spoon I obtained a sample of unctuous
cream, only differently coloured to that
afforded by the domestic cow.

When I rose to an upright position, after
the process of skimming and scooping, I
found myself standing face to face with
a worthy citizen who had watched my
proceedings with bewildered astonishment.

"I really beg your pardon," he said; "but
what can be the use of that?"

"I want to see what sort of neighbours I
have got," I replied, looking hard at my
beer-glass.

He was too polite to ask further questions.
Perhaps he was a little uneasy respecting my
means of obtaining secret information, and
set me down as a sorcerer.

The microscope was the talisman with
which I immediately tested the quality of
my neighbours. I had looked for members
of the vegetable kingdom—for peaceable
subjects, quiet creatures, sedentary beings
merely,—and had the surprise of finding the
greater portion of my cream to consist of
busy crowds made up of myriads and myriads
of lively promenaders, all belonging to one
respectable family, enjoying themselves in
company with billions and trillions of frisky
fellows, the brothers, cousins-german, and
second-cousins of several other equally
respectable families. In short, it was a grand
clan-meeting; it seems that they maintained
their ground unexterminated by the bakings
of the sun, the rarely-applied shovel of the
road-mender, and the torrential rains of
either equinox. I should like to introduce
you to a few of my neighbours. They are
all of them sailors by profession.

Figure to yourself, then, as Jolly Jack Tar
the first, a grass-green, finless mackerel, with
a lighter tinted head and tail, the caudal
extremity tapering to a point. But, instead
of being solid flesh, it is merely a hollow,
transparent, flexible shell,—an overcoat without
any body to wrap, studded inside irregularly
with bright buttons of various sizes and
shapes. A notch, by way of mouth, under
the snout, like a pig's or a dog-fish's, remains
permanently open, as if Jack had been
greatly astonished in his early days, and had
remained gaping with locked-jaw ever since.
From one of the lips of the notch, there hangs
a long thread, or whip-thong, something in
the way of the worm-like appendages about
the mouth of a barbel, only of extremest fineness,
and longer than the creature's whole
body. Abolish the mackerel's two eyes on each
side, and, instead of them, put a single
carmine-red eye, or perhaps cluster of eyes, at
the back of the head. The creature is hence
name Euglena viridis, that is, green pretty-
pupil or pretty-eye. At times it contracts
itself into the shape of a turnip-radish, the
tap-root of which is the animal's tail. On
account of this dramatic phase, in conjunction
with its normal shape, one of its synonyms is
Raphanella urbica, or town-loving little
radish. Sometimes it changes to a pear or a
peg-top. But it really does delight in an
urban or suburban residence, while one of its
relations, to be mentioned shortly, prefers to
revel in rural ponds and ditches. In repose
or death, Euglena is round as a ball.
Congregated in that state, so as to form a slimy
paste like Russian caviare, it constitutes the
dark green scum which covers the mud of
many dried-up pools; alive and well, it gives
the greenish tinge to the stagnant waters in
which it dwells. The water itself continues
white; the colour is derived from its
inhabitants. Euglena viridis has one brother,
amongst others, called Euglena acus, or
Euglena needle, from its slenderer and more
pointed proportions.

All the Euglenas roll through the water,
revolving on their axis, instead of by side-
strokes of the tail, like fish. The filament
attached to the head is supposed to be the
locomotive power, by its continual lashing of
the waters around it; but there are probably
other means of progression which remain
invisible to the acutest observer. It is
doubtful whether the Euglena's pretty eye
be an optical instrument at all. Ehrenberg
will have it that it is, as also that the bright
buttons inside are eggs, nervous ganglions and
digestive organs; but Ehrenberg saw a great
many things which nobody else has been
able to see. With an indifferent microscope
and a vivid imagination, you may see
whatever you choose; while, with a first-rate
microscope, not everybody has the skill to
see what really is to be seen. Of the
Euglena's own diet little is known. They
cannot be made to swallow coloured
substances with their so-called mouth, which is
only a proof that they are not fond of paint.
Probably they imbibe a good deal of nutriment
by absorption, both in a liquid and a
gaseous form. In this there is nothing
contrary to facts established respecting the higher
animals, man himself included; broth-baths
and milk-baths have had their vogue from
the date of Egyptian civilisation, downwards,
while Dr. Franklin indulged in air-baths.
Themselves (the Euglenas) are eaten at a rate
of several individuals,—I dare not state how
many I have seen devoured, for fear of being
charged with exaggeration; but let us content
ourselves with several—a minute, by the
large wheel-animalcule, Hydatina senta, the
rough water-beast who sucks them into his
wide-open mouth, much as a codfish would
swallow sprats, and instantly crushes them
before your eyes in the terrible mill which
works at the bottom of his throat. On letting
fall a grain of salt or a droplet of sea-water
into the drop in which an assembly of green
Euglenas are disporting, death and the
assumption of the globular form are the almost
immediate consequences.

As a final surprise to you, unlearned reader,
there are bold free thinkers who unhesitatingly
affirm that the whole tribe of Euglenas