in the aquarium; they always crawl out if they have the opportunity, seeming to eschew the very element they are generally found in when caught. These effets readily took food from the hand, particularly if it was rubbed against their noses; they seemed almost too sluggish to take much trouble in the matter else. I gave them small worms, gentles, and ants' eggs; they seized them with a bite, and got them down with a series of gulps. But I hardly ever fed them, perhaps not more than a dozen times altogether, as my object was to combine business with pleasure; the fern-case, in common with most others, I expect, being at times much blighted with green fly. I first put in lizards, to try and keep them down, but could not keep the lizards alive for any length of time, owing, I think, to the dampness of the case not being suitable to their constitutions, and their active habits making them require more food than they could obtain. I then tried small toads, and had the same luck with them as with the success; they soon cleared off all the green fly within reach, crawling to nearly the top of the ponds for that purpose. I have never had any trouble with which has recently been removed into the country, and advise all fern-growers to try this simple remedy.—H. F., Jun.
Voracity of Sea Anemones.—Having kept a marine aquarium for a considerable period, on one occasion I noticed that a specimen of the common smooth anemone (Actinia mesembryanthemum) which for some time previous had been adhering to the side of the tank, had become detached, and was then floating, base upwards, on the surface of the water, and directly over a jutting piece of rock, about two inches below, on which was adhering a fine specimen of the daisy anemone (Sagartia bellis). Having occasion to look into the tank a few hours afterwards, my attention was arrested by the peculiar appearance of the daisy, the top of which then appeared of a bright red colour. A closer inspection, however, showed this red to be a portion of the red mesembryanthemum, which had been seized by the tentacles of the daisy, and was being drawn slowly and surely into its stomach. A few minutes afterwards it disappeared, while the daisy beautifully expanded, as if enjoying the meal. Here, then, was an illustration of a fact in natural history of which I had been ignorant, and which I have not seen noticed in any work on the subject, namely, that sea anemones will feed on their own species. And here also is a possible solution of the mystery attending the occasional disappearance of a specimen on which some store has been set.—W. H. C.
A Squirrel fond of Toadstools.—Walking in the pleasure grounds of my home in Warwickshire one morning in September, some years ago, I noticed a tall, well-grown toadstool springing up from the grass in a grove of trees. Being perfectly ignorant of "fungi" I can only say that this one qas quite white throughout, and in shape like a well-expanded mushroom on a taller stem. A little squirrel descended from one of the trees, and made straight for the toadstool without noticing me, felled it in the neatest and most workman-like manner, by biting through its stem close to the ground; then, taking it in its mouth by the stem, he ran up the tree from which he had descended, and, having found a convenient seat, proceeded to eat the toadstool with much apparent satisfaction. A friend of mine has since told me that he had witnessed a similar incident in his own garden in Staffordshire, but I do not know whether the toadstool chosen by his squirrel was of a similar kind. Perhaps some of your readers may be able to inform me whether fungi are known to constitute a portion of the staple diet of squirrels, or are only reverted to in the dearth of other food; also whether they will eat all kinds indiscriminately.—I.
A Martin in Difficulty.—A young martin (at Rochester, in Kent) had the misfortune to become entangled in what appeared to me, at a short distance, to be a piece of thread. Having no means of extricating it, I was obliged to content myself with watching the efforts it made to effect its liberty, and the manœvres of its parents for that same object. Occasionally it struggled violently until exhausted, and then would remain quiet until it had recovered a little strength, when it renewed its struggles. In the meantime, the old birds showed their distress in loud twitterings, and by circling round their hapless offspring, frequently flying full tilt against it, probably trusting that the impetus they thus gave would be sufficient to release the captive. At last one of the parents managed to alight upon its young one, but the additional weight was insufficient to break the thread; the other parent then clung on also, but still without success, and after trying this several times, they seemed to become disheartened, and relinquished their efforts, leaving the young bird to its fate; but this was more propitious than might have been expected, and I had the pleasure of at last seeing the persevering efforts crowned with success, its repeated endeavours (like water which by constant dropping wears away stone) in time wore away the thread, and its release was attained.—A. B. F.
Flesh-worm Disease.—Trichinosis is a malady of the human frame which has probably raged with unremitting virulence for six thousand years, but of which man has unfortunately lived in profound ignorance; it has been working insidiously, concealed, underground I was about to say, but I only mean under-skin. How great has been our loss I need scarcely say; let us at once seek to repair it: six thousand years have been lost to us for ever. Ignorant of the existence of the disease, we have sought no cure; like the inhabitants of the Happy Valley, we have not known of our misery; at last Dr. Althaus, to whose name be every honour, has not only detected the evil, but has provided a cure. A worm, a little insignificant worm, a microscopic worm, inhabits the bodies of swine, pussy-cats, jackdaws and badgers, frogs and moles, crows, hedgehogs and hawks, and when man consumes the flesh of them he takes the living worms into his stomach, and thus offers his own body to them as a domicile. Microscopists have been for years acquainted with the existence of a minute vermiform entozoon inhabiting the human body, and until lately it was regarded as a harmless animal, and rather a microscopic curiosity than a source of danger. Its origin, as well as its life-history, long remained a problem, for which neither medical practitioners nor zoologists could offer a satisfactory solution; and the untenable hypothesis of spontaneous generation—that ever-present refuge of the ignorant—was freely resorted to by the way of explanation. From experiments made by Virchow, Leuckart and Claus, it has, however, been clearly established that if animals, as dogs and cats, be fed with flesh containing Trichinæ, that other Trichinæ are produced in the intestines, and that these produce eggs and living progeny, which