principle that water will pass through moist films that air will not penetrate, on the fact that evaporation takes place under right conditions with force enough to cause something of a vacuum, and also on the elasticity of the cells.
The model was constructed of glass tubes, closed at one end with a piece of bladder, and joined together in series by means of thick-walled caoutchouc tubing; the top which represented a leaf was a funnel closed by a bladder. This artificial cell chain was filled with water, mixed with carbolic acid to keep the pores from clogging, and was set up with its base immersed. The fluid evaporated through the membrane at the top of the funnel, which drew up more from the cells below, the space so caused being continually filled from the base. This is an interesting experiment and is said to solve the question, but it is open to the same objection, that a tree will not absorb fluid and carry it for any length of time after the roots are cut off. I regard it, however as a long stride in the right direction.
To what source, then, must we look for an explanation of this process?
I think it is a fact that the small, new root-fibers imbibe fluid with considerable force, but it is undoubtedly a fact that they soon lose this force when deprived of the leaves; that the leaves with the aid of evaporation, exert a great force, which the above experiment plainly indicates; and I cannot consistently dismiss the idea that capillary attraction has something to do with it. If we also add to this the theory that the swaying of the stems and branches by the wind is continually changing the shape and size of the cells and is thus driving the juices wherever an opening will allow them to travel, thus bringing the elasticity of the tree to our aid, we have again advanced.
But the principle of life is not discovered. Whenever it is we may find it to be a force much greater than any we have so far examined, and which may even cause the overthrow of all theories heretofore advanced.
EMERSON AND THE WOODPECKER STORY
NO squirrel works harder at his pine-nut harvest than the carpenter woodpeckers in autumn at their acorn harvest, says John Muir in the December Atlantic, drilling holes in the thick, corky bark of the yellow pine and incense cedar, in which to store the crop for winter use; a hole for each acorn so nicely adjusted as to size that when the acorn, point fore-most, is driven in, it fits so well that it cannot be drawn out without digging around it. Each acorn is thus carefully stored in a dry bin, perfectly protected from the weather, a most laborious method of stowing away a crop, a granary for each kernel. Yet they never seem to weary at the work, but go on so diligently they seem determined that every acorn in the grove shall be saved. They are never seen eating acorns at the time they are storing them, and it is commonly believed that they never eat them or intend to eat them, but that the wise birds store them and protect them solely for the sake of the worms they are supposed to contain. And because these worms are too small for use at the time the acorns drop, they are shut up like lean calves and steers, each in a separate stall, with abundance of food to grow big and fat by the time they will be the most wanted, that is, in winter, when insects are scarce and stall-fed worms most valuable. So these woodpeckers are supposed to be a sort of cattle-raiser, each with a drove of thousands, rivaling the ants that raise grain and keep herds of plant lice for milk cows. Needless to say, the story is not true, though some naturalists even believe it. When Emerson was in the park, having heard the worm story, and seen the great pines plugged full of acorns, he asked (just to pump me, I suppose): "Why do woodpeckers take the trouble to put acorns into the bark of the trees?" "For the same reason," I replied, "that bees store honey and squirrels nuts." "But they tell me, Mr. Muir, that woodpeckers don't eat acorns." "Yes they do," I said. "I have seen them eating them. During snowstorms they seem to eat little besides acorns. I have repeatedly interrupted them at their meals, and seen the perfectly sound, half-eaten acorns. They eat them in the shell as some people eat eggs." "But what about the worms?" "I suppose," I said, "that when they come to a wormy one they eat both worm and acorn. Anyhow, they eat the sound ones when they can't find anything they like better, and from the time they store them until they are used they guard them, and woe to the squirrel or jay caught stealing."
THE CRAB-EATING OPOSSUM
THE crab-eating opossum (Philander philander) is one of the largest of the family. The body is nine and one-half inches long, and the tail nearly thirteen inches. It has a wide range, extending throughout all of tropical America. It is numerous in the woods of Brazil, preferring the proximity of swamps, which furnish it with crabs. It lives almost exclusively in trees, and descends to the ground only when it wishes to forage.
While it proceeds slowly and awkwardly on the ground, its prehensile tail enables it to climb trees with some facility. This opossum readily entraps smaller mammals, reptiles, and insects, and especially crabs, which are its favorite food. It preys upon birds and their nests, but it also eats fruit, and is said to visit poultry yards and to cause great devastation among chickens and pigeons.
The young of the crab-eating opossum differ in color from the old animals. They are completely naked at birth, but when they are sufficiently developed to leave the pouch, they grow a short, silky fur of a shining nut-brown color, which gradually deepens into the dark brownish-black color of maturity. All observers agree that the little creatures escape from the pouch and, moving around and upon the mother's body, afford a charming spectacle. The pouch is formed by two folds of skin, which are laid over the unformed young attached to the mammae.
The opossum is extensively hunted on account of the havoc it works among poultry.
The negroes are its enemies, and kill it whenever and wherever they can. The flesh is said to be unpalatable to most white persons, for two glands impart a very strong and repellent odor of garlic to it, but the negroes like it, and the flesh repays them for the trouble of the pursuit. The opossum, however, is not easily killed, and resorts to dissimulation when hard pressed, rolls up like a ball, and feigns to be dead. To anyone not acquainted with its habits, the open jaws, the extended tongue, the dimmed eyes would be ample confirmation of it, but the experienced observer knows that it is only "'possuming," and that as soon as the enemy withdraws it will gradually get on its legs and make for the woods.
It is said that the opossum was formerly found in Europe, but now only inhabits America. Nearly all of the species live in the forest or in the underbrush, making their homes in hollow trees, holes in the ground, among thick grass and in bushes. All are nocturnal in their habits and lead a solitary, roving life. The opossum lives with its mate only during the pairing time. It has no fixed habitation. In captivity it is the least interesting of animals. Rolled up and motionless, it lies all day, and only when provoked does it make the slightest movement. It opens its mouth as wide as possible, and for as long a time as one stands before it, as if it suffered from lockjaw.
The opossum can hardly be classed among the game animals of America, yet its pursuit in the South in old plantation days used to afford the staple amusement for the dusky toilers of the cotton states. It was the custom, as often as the late fall days brought with them the ripened fruit and golden grain, for the dark population of the plantation, sometimes accompanied by young "massa," to have a grand 'possum hunt a la mode. We would describe the method of taking it, were it the policy of this magazine to show approval of a most cruel practice. Happily the custom, through change of circumstances, has fallen into disuse.
The specimen of this interesting animal which we present in this number of Birds and All Nature was captured, with its mother and five young ones, in a car load of bananas, having traveled all the way from the tropics to Chicago in a crate of the fruit. The mother and young were kept alive by eating the bananas, another proof that the crab-eating opossum does not feed exclusively upon animal food.
WASHINGTON AND LINCOLN
IT is natural that at this time our thoughts should turn toward two of our great national heroes. This month is to us not merely the month of February, marking one of the twelve divisions of our calendar year, but it is a
