be surprised at finding ourselves starting back; at feeling a slight and momentary sensation, as of a drop of water trickling down our back; or at forgetting to observe whether the intruder was really a viper or a snake?
"Viper or snake, snake or viper? And is there a pin to choose between them?" inquires a voice at our ear. To this query we will attempt an answer, because it is a presentiment we have, that there is more romance amongst and sound knowledge, with regard to reptiles, than any other of the objects of natural history. Under the term reptiles we include lizards, slow-worms, snakes, vipers, frogs, toads, and newts. The latter perhaps better known since aquariums and vivariums have become fashionable than they ever were before. All reptiles are cold-blooded. They possess a heart, it is true; but, compared with higher organisms, an imperfect one, inasmuch as it has but one ventricle: the result of this is that respiration is imperfect, and as respiration gives heat to the blood, which in turn sustains the heat of the body, it follows necessarily from their organization that the temperature in reptiles should be very low. Let a frog leap upon your hand, or take a newt between your fingers, and the chilly, smooth, apparently slimy appeal to the sense of touch, will carry conviction far swifter than argument.
Of reptiles possessing the snake-like form we have but three species indigenous to this country, and one of these, the little "slow-worm," differs sufficiently in a scientific sense, as well as in its general size and appearance, to be excluded from our present consideration. The other two species are the common snake, and the viper or adder. Although we may have heard, in youthful days, of red vipers, blue-bellied vipers, and black vipers, and adders, yet there is but one species of reptile to answer to all these synonyms.
It is well known that of the serpent race there are some that are venomous, and others that are not; each of these groups has its representative in Britain, one being perfectly gentle and harmless, the other dangerously, even if not fatally, poisonous. It is a firmly-rooted belief in some districts that the bite of the adder, however slight, is certain death to the victim; whilst amongst naturalists there remains a doubt whether the fatal terminations are not very exceptional. Notwithstanding the dread of the common snake which is shared equally with the viper, it cannot be dangerous or injurious, because it possesses neither the glands for secreting, nor fangs for injecting the poison. Only schoolboys, we should think, entertain the notion that the slender forked tongue, so swift in its movements, possesses the sting.
Without attempting to set forth, in scientific form and terminology, the generic and specific characters of snake and viper, we may nevertheless endeavour to point out the features by which one may be distinguished from the other. The common or ringed snake (called Natrix torquata by scientific men) grows to the length of three or four feet; the general colour above is of a greyish olive with rows of black spots, its is of a greenish-yellow or lead colour beneath, marbled with black. At the back of the head are two brightish yellow spots, behind which are two black spots or bands, which sometimes become confluent. The scales on the head are nine in number and large. It is found all over Britain, especially in the neightbourhood of water, and in damper situations than the viper. This reptile is easily tamed, and Mr. Bell states, in his "History of British Reptiles," that he had one which knew him from all other persons; and when let out of its box would immediately go to him, and crawl under the sleeve of his coat, where it would lie perfectly still and enjoy the warmth. It was accustomed to come to his hand for a draught of milk every morning at breakfast, of its own accord, but would fly from strangers, and hiss if they meddled with it.
This snake, in common with others, changes its skin at intervals, but not, as has been stated, at regular periods, or once a year; but sometimes four or five times during the year, and often less, according to circumstances. In this "sloughing" process the reptile bursts the cuticle about its neck, draws out its head, the old skin is thrust back, and the snake crawls out. In this process the skin is turned inside out, and left on the grass to scare unwary females into the belief that they have seen a snake, little dreaming that they have only been shuddering at its old clothes.
What does the snake eat?—Undoubtedly it delights in frogs, young birds, birds' eggs, and even mice. Imagine the little shudder and start in which we indulged in boyhood, on putting our hand, with felonious intent, into a bird's nest (we couldn't see into it), and finding our fingers come in contact with the smooth cold folds of a coiled-up snake! It was the last time we felt for eggs before seeing them. That was an experiment too satisfactory in its results to require repetition. The author already quoted gives an interesting account of a snake's meal:—"If it be a frog, it generally seizes it by the hinder leg, be-
