cid, and inviting than ever, and Jack and I plunged into its depth, and gambolled among its radiant coral groves; while Peterkin wallowed at the surface, and tried occasionally to kick us as we passed below. Having dressed, I then hastened to the tank; but what was my surprise and grief to find nearly all the animals dead, and the water in a putrid condition! I was greatly distressed at this, and wondered what could be the cause of it.
"Why, you precious humbug," said Peterkin, coming up to me, "how could you expect it to be otherwise? When fishes are accustomed to live in the Pacific Ocean, how can you expect them to exist in a hole like that?"
"Indeed, Peterkin," I replied, "there seems to be truth in what you say. Nevertheless, now I think of it, there must be some error in your reasoning; for, if I put in but a few very small animals, they will bear the same proportion to this pond that the millions of fish bear to the ocean."
"I say, Jack," cried Peterkin, waving his hand, "come here, like a good fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our assistance, for he's out o' sight beyond me already!"
"What's the matter?" inquired Jack, coming up, while he endeavored to scrub his long hair dry with a towel of cocoa-nut cloth.
I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who I was happy to find, quite agreed with me. "Your best plan," he said, "will be to put very few animals at first into your tank, and add more as you find it will bear them. And look here," he added, pointing to the sides of the tank, which, for the space of two inches above the water-level, were incrusted with salt, "you must carry your philosophy a little farther, Ralph. That water has evaporated so much
