Marked differences in details of structure, configuration and surroundings are apparent, which prove that these creatures. are controlled by reason, rather than instinct, in the elaboration of their homes. That they have some means of communicating their desires to each other cannot be doubted. When the male has laid hold of a stem, a pebble or a stick that completely baffles all effort at removal, his mate seems summoned to his assistance, and the united strength of the pair accomplishes the object to be gained. There is ever noticeable in whatever the sexes undertake some concert of action which would put to shame the boasted intelligence of man himself. The Sun-fishes, as has been said, nest in companies. When the combined effort of two individuals is unable to expel an invader, the entire community, as by a single mighty impulse, rises up against the foe. There is evidence of some form of society, even though simple in its organization, where individual members league themselves together for mutual protection and defence. Other examples might be cited to give the reader a common-sense estimate of the comparatively high order of intelligence that characterizes the actions of many of our fishes.

SLIPPERY AS AN EEL.

E

ELS are found in almost all warm and temperate countries, and grow to a very great size in tropical regions. They are impatient of cold, and hence do not exist in the extreme northern and southern parts of the world. In many islands of the Pacific Ocean they are held in considerable estimation, being preserved in ponds and fed by hand, but in many civilized communities a strong prejudice prevails against them, probably from their similarity to snakes, which prevents even a hungry man from caring to eat such wholesome and nutritious food.

Not one of our river fishes is so mysterious as the Eel, and although much is now known that was involved in obscurity, yet there is still much to learn of its habits, especially the manner of its reproduction. Difference of locality, it is likely, may influence the Eel and cause a difference of habit, an opinion which seems warranted from the various and perplexing accounts that have been given of its customs by numerous practical observers.

During the hot, still and sunny days of June they are chiefly seen on top of the water, wherever masses of aquatic weeds may be found, either in the calm enjoyment of a sunbath, or for the purpose of feeding upon the myriads of gnats, moths and flies that seek the plants for rest or food, and which by unavoidably damping their wings become easy prey to their ambushed enemies. At night, similar retreats are affected for like purposes. Floating masses of detached weeds that the eddying stream has wound and kept in one place are sought in warm, stilly weather, but in blowing,

cooler or rainy weather they forsake such places for the still, deep ditches. If a flush of water comes, and a little, shallow stream, running from or into the main river, becomes fuller than usual, there they resort in vast numbers, evidently pleased with the delicious change, only to remain as long as its freshness continues.

Like many other fishes, Eels are very tenacious of life, and can live a long time when removed from the water, owing to a simple and beautiful modification of structure, which permits them to retain a sufficient amount of moisture to keep the gills damp and in a condition to perform their natural functions. They have been seen crawling over considerable distances, somewhat snake-like in their movements, evidently either in pursuit of water, their own dwelling-place being nearly dried, or in search of some running stream in whose waters they may reach the sea after the customary manner of their race. Multitudes of Eels, both old and young, some of the latter scarcely six inches in length, have been seen crawling up the banks of a creek, apparently without any purpose, and over the smooth surface of a projecting rock, with all the ease of a fly moving over a ceiling. So active were the little ones as to defy, unless the hand was moved with extreme rapidity, their capture. Vast numbers of these little Eels are in the habit of proceeding up the rivers in the spring-time. In some places in England they are called Elvers. They are caught in immense quantities, and scalded and pressed into masses termed Eel- or Elver-cake. When dressed these little Eels afford a luxurious repast. Towards the latter part of summer these fishes migrate towards the sea, being capable of living in fresh or salt water with equal ease, the mouths of rivers constituting favorite localities. Even in our seaport towns and marine watering-places the common river Eel is caught by those who are angling in the sea for fish.

Various modes of capturing Eels are adopted by man. Bobbing, or clodding as it is sometimes called, is a very

common and successful method, consisting in bunching a number of earthworms upon a worsted string, and lowering it near the place where the fishes are supposed to be feeding. So eagerly do the voracious fish seize the bait, and so fiercely do they bite, that they are pulled out of the water before they have time to collect their thoughts and disengage their teeth from the string. Night-lines, which are laid in the evening and taken up in the morning, are another plan. But the most successful method is by spearing. The spear used for the purpose is not unlike the conventional trident of Neptune, except that the prongs are four in number, flattened, slightly barbed on each edge, and spread rather widely from their junction with the shaft. This is pushed at random into the muddy banks where the Eels love to lie, and when one is caught, its long snake-like body is wedged in between the jagged prongs and lifted into the boat before it is able to extricate itself. Almost any kind of food that it can master, whether aquatic or terrestrial, is eaten to satisfy the creature's most voracious appetite. Even mice and rats fall victims to its hunger, and an Eel is recorded to have been found floating dead on the water, having been choked to death by a rat which it had essayed to swallow, but which proved too large a morsel for its throat.

So remarkable is the tenacity of life which this fish possesses, that after the creature has been cut up into lengths, each separate piece will move as if alive, and at the touch of a pin's point will curve itself as though it felt the injury. When all irritability has ceased, the portions will flounce vigorously about if placed in boiling water, and even after its influence has ceased will, upon the addition of salt, jump about as vigorously as before. There can be no real sensation, let it be understood, as the spinal cord has been severed and all connection with the brain, which is the seat of sensation, has been cut off.

How the Eel reproduces its kind has long been a subject of discussion. Some held that the young is produced in a

living condition, and others that it is hatched from the egg. The matter has, however, been set at rest by the microscope, which shows that the oily-looking substance, generally called fat, which is found in the abdomen of the Eel, is really an aggregation of eggs, and that these objects, minute as they are, and which are not so large as the point of a pin, are quite as perfect in their structure as the eggs of a moth or a bird are seen to be to the naked, unaided vision.

Anguilla rostrata, as the Common American Eel is technically known, is abundant in the United States, living in freshwater streams, but depositing its eggs, often eight millions to a single fish, in the ocean, the young ascending the rivers. Eels are devoid of ventral fins. Their scales, which are very minute, are covered with a thick, slime-like material. Under the microscope each scale is beautifully ornamented, and the exquisite pattern formed by the scales on the skin may be readily and effectively seen if a bit of it, when fresh, be placed on the window-glass and allowed to dry. The sexes are difficult to distinguish; the females have the highest dorsal fin, smaller eyes, and a lighter color than the males, while the snout is generally broader at the tip.

When contiguous to the sea, as in a pond near Wells, on the coast of Maine, the Eels invariably go down into salt water at night. As the connecting stream is narrow, the sight is remarkable, thousands filling the channel, many of whom, when alarmed, leaving the water and passing over the dry rocks to the ocean. Eels are not the silent creatures which many persons suppose them to be. They frequently utter a sound, expressed by a single note, which is more distinctly musical than the sounds made by other fishes, and which has a clear metallic resonance. They are of slow growth, scarcely reaching the length of twelve inches during the first year, but subsequently attaining to large dimensions, the preserved skins of two Eels, which Mr. Yarrall saw at Cambridge, England, weighing together fifty pounds, the heavier being twenty-seven pounds in weight.