The Agassiz Association SIXTY-SIXTH REPORT.

LOUIS AGASSIZ. His Life and Correspondence.[2]

No person capable of appreciating a beautiful record of a consistent and noble life can begin to read Mrs. Agassiz’s book and leave it unfinished; and no one can finish reading it without receiving a fresh baptism of faith, hope, and love.

“The work is written in so captivating a style that the reader seems almost to see Agassiz, the boy, catching the fishes and studying their movements in the old stone tank near the Swiss parsonage where he was born. Sympathy is felt for the youth threatened with blindness, but still so intent upon his chosen pursuits that he studies fossils in a darkened room, using his tongue to feel out the impressions when his fingers are not sensitive enough. Enthusiasm is aroused when the young man exploits his glacial theory, which, opposed by Buckland and other scientists, afterward makes converts of them all.”

I have been deeply impressed by the manifestation of Agassiz’s distinctive traits and peculiar powers, at a very early age. It is this that makes the record of his life so inspiring to young men. When our boys read what a boy of nineteen may be, and may do, they will not be satisfied with lives devoted in large measure to trivial enjoyments; and they will regard as of less consequence the height of their new collars, and the tie of their cravats.

From the time he was born in the little cottage by the Lake of Morat, until he was laid to rest at Mount Auburn, the story of Agassiz’s life is a constant inspiration. Whether Louis Agassiz was right or wrong, we respect the manliness that refused to accept the doctrine of evolution, because his reason was not convinced of its truth.

I can scarcely conceive a greater blessing to this country, restless as it is in its haste for riches, vexed as it is by the clashing of opposing interests, than that the sweet and consecrated spirit of Louis Agassiz should steal into the unquiet breasts of American young men, and fill them with the like self-forgetting devotion to simple truth.

In Memoriam.

It is with deep sorrow that I have to announce the death of one of our most prominent and promising members. William D. Shaw, son of Mr. Thomas Shaw, died at Côte St. Antoine, June 29, aged 19 years. Mr. Shaw was one of those young men who had caught the spirit of Louis Agassiz, and already at his early age he had given promise of a useful life.

He was the leading spirit in founding our Montreal Chapter, which grew, principally under his direction, into one of the largest and strongest on our roll. A member of the B. A. A. S., he was about going to England to take part in the proceedings there. He was a devoted student of natural science, and his collection which he recently gave to the Montreal Chapter was one of the largest private collections in the city.

Mr. Shaw was our Canadian Secretary, and his loss will be deeply felt by many Chapters of our Association.

Notes.

Water-spider. I found a large water-spider under a bridge. I placed it in a bottle and fed it flies. Instead of building a web, it stays on a stick, and jumps at the flies when they come near it.—Alex. E. Wight.

Electric light and insects. In four or five evenings, by examining the ground closely near our electric lights, I found specimens of Telea Polyphemus, Actias Luna, Platysamia Cecropia, Callosamia Promethea, and other large moths, including several hawk-moths; also many varieties of beetles.

Hardly any were found outside the shadow around base of pole.—Peter T. Bourne, Sec., Poughkeepsie, N. Y.

Birds of Fulton Co., Ky. No bird is given that I have not seen here and fully identified. Nomenclature according to Coue’s Key:

1.—Turdus migratorius. American robin. Transient visitant in spring and fall. Abundant. Many killed and eaten here.

2.—T. Mustelinus. Wood-thrush. Rare.

3.—T. fuscescens. Wilson’s thrush. Transient. Common.

4.—Mimus polyglottus. Mocking-bird. Summer resident. Growing scarce. Many young taken for the cage. A young one sells for from 25c. to $1.

5.—Mimus Carolinensis. Catbird. Common.

6.—Sialia sialis. Bluebird. Resident. More common in winter than in summer.

7.—Lophophanes bicolor. Tufted titmouse. Resident.

8.—Parus atricapillus. Black-capped titmouse. Abundant in winter.

9.—Sitta Carolinensis. Sap-sucker. Abundant in winter.

10.—Troglodytes domesticits. House-wren. Abundant in winter.

11.—Dendræca æstiva. Summer yellow-bird. Common.

12.—Pyranga rubra. Scarlet tanager. Summer resident. Rare.

13.—Pyranga æstiva. Summer red-bird. Common.

14.—Hirundo erythrogastra horreorum. Barn-swallow. Common summer resident.

15.—Passerina cyanea. Indigo bunting. Common summer resident.

16.—Cardinalis Virginiana. Cardinal grosbeak. Common.

17.—Trochilus colubris. Ruby-throated humming-bird. Common.

18.—Cathartes aura. Turkey buzzard. Common resident.

19.—Zenaidura Carolinensis. Turtle-dove. Common.

20.—Anas boscas. Mallard. Very common.

[These are only selections from a long and nearly complete list sent by L. O. Pindar. It shows what an observing boy can do.]

Grasshoppers climbing trees. Toward evening, I noticed on an apple-tree a very large number of grasshoppers, apparently climbing the tree. It seemed to me that they were going to “roost” for the night.—E. F. Stevens, Chapter 465.

Ruffed Grouse drumming. Hearing some one say that the thunder-like noise was made by the grouse’s wings striking upon the log upon which he was sitting, I determined to find out for certain. Since then I have noted four things:

1. The wings are always held half-closed at first; i. e., the outer joint half-doubled against the one next it.

2. The wing is first raised and then pushed outward from the body.

3. The wings are not used alternately, but both at once.

4. The wings do not strike the log, but are drawn in by a quick motion against the sides of the bird.—E. L. Stephan, Pine City, Minn.

Hydrae hunting. I send you a drawing of a hydra which (natural size) is about half an inch long. I have seen a hydra fusca catch little animals smaller than itself by means of its lasso, and, when they were dead, drop them without eating them.—Alex. Wight, Framingham, Mass.

A motherly rat. I found in a nest a mouse, of the common sort, so young that its eyes were not yet open. A friend having a white rat with a litter of young, we put the little fellow among them. The mother rat at once adopted it and took good care of it for two weeks, when it escaped.—Frank H. Foster, Sec. 440.

Flowers, birds, insects, and worms of Japan. Before coming to Japan I was told that the flowers here had no perfumes, and the birds no songs.

This certainly was misinformation, as there are both, though not so intense or so various as at home.

The skylark is the most conspicuous of the birds, at least, so far as voice goes, and pours forth as much music as any half dozen of our songsters. No wonder the poets have gone mad over him.

Will some of our English friends tell us whether the skylark sings any in the fall in England?

Very many of the worms and caterpillars that live on the leaves of trees and shrubs—and every tree and bush seems to have one or more of these enemies—have a queer way of spinning themselves a sort of sack or cocoon covered with bits of twigs and leaves. One end of the cocoon is left open, and through this the worm sticks its head and feet, thus carrying its jacket around with it while eating.

The earth-worms are very striking. They all possess much more springing power than any I ever saw at home. Even the small, common kinds will jump entirely off the ground when touched. Some grow to an enormous size. The largest I saw this summer were fully ten inches long and from three-eighths to one-half an inch through when contracted. Some are beautifully striped—in rings—with a prevailing blue color, but changing in the light like variegated silk.—C. M. Cady.

A robin fights. While on a tramp, one day, I saw a robin give a cow-bird a sound thrashing.

A “fish-fly” walks out. I found, one day, in Wine creek, some queer-shaped larvæ. They looked like large wrigglers. I picked some up and, while looking at them, I saw the back of one split open, and out walked a fish-fly. I thought it would have trouble in getting its tail out, but it didn’t. It just gave a twist and out came the tail.—F. V. Corregan, Oswego, N. Y.

Strange food for tortoises and mice. I am very much interested in the attempt to teach habits of scientific observation to the young people of our country, and therefore venture to send you two facts new to me in regard to the feeding habits of animals. Last summer I was passing through a grove, about twenty rods from the Housatonic river, when my attention was attracted by a large turtle (for reasons mentioned below, I think it was a land-tortoise, though I do not know one kind of turtle from another), with its neck stretched out to its utmost extent, busily engaged about something. As I drew near, it pulled in its head with a sharp hiss, and I saw that it was standing near a fungus, or toad-stool, about an inch thick and three inches across (when whole), nearly half of which looked as if it had been nibbled away; and, on looking at the tortoise’s mouth, I saw bits of the toad-stool sticking to it. On mentioning this to my brother (who knows far more about animals than I), he said, “That is queer, for I found a land-tortoise eagerly eating a toad-stool in my woods, this summer.” My brother lives on Long Island.

For many months my sister and I have been puzzled by seeing a mouse in our room, though he had no apparent hiding-place. One window of ours always stands open at the top all summer, and below it is a thick woodbine. One evening in September, I was busily writing by this window, of which the blinds were closed, but the slats open, when I heard a tapping noise, which I thought was insects. Looking up, however, I saw a little mouse, which, on seeing me, disappeared through the slats of the blind. I sat quite still, and in a minute he came back, and, to my astonishment, began catching and eating the small insects which my light had attracted to the window. He was not a field-mouse, but an ordinary house-mouse, and could not have been driven to this diet by extreme hunger, for he was very plump.

Perhaps these habits in mice and turtles may be well known, but, as I never heard of them, I venture to send them to you.

Yours truly,

V. Butler, Stockbridge, Mass.

The Sensitive Plant of Texas.

This remarkable plant of Texas is one not frequently spoken of by botanists, but nevertheless it is interesting and worthy of a high place among the many beautiful flowers and plants which clothe the boundless plains of Texas during eight months of the year. In its style of growth it somewhat resembles the climbing rose, and is covered with densely grown and flexible thorns about a quarter of an inch long, and turned backward like hooks. Its top (that part above the earth’s surface) dies out when the cold “northers” begin to blow; but early in spring the tender shoots spring up from the old stock. It thrives best among rocks mixed with the yellow alkaline clay common to these regions. Its flower is of the most exquisite and delicate beauty, and its delicious perfume is not to be classed with that of the rose or other sweet-scented domestic flowers. The flower, when blooming, does not burst open after the manner of the rose, but in one night a myriad of little silk-like threads or petals of a deep pink color shoot out from a green ball, much resembling those seen on the sycamore, though much smaller; and, as the king of day peeps smilingly over the distant horizon, it greets him with its delicate beauty and delicious odor. But now we come to the remarkable part of its structure, the leaves. These grow from each side of a stem much in the same manner as those on a walnut tree, but of course not so large, the entire stem rarely exceeding an inch in length. Now draw your finger along this stem, touching the bright green leaves on either side, and what happens? The instant you remove your finger the little leaves close with the uppermost sides tight together, and thus they remain for several hours, as though insulted by such an act of impudence. Even the touch of a stick or a strong wind will close these ill-tempered leaves. If you touch one individual leaf it closes, while the others remain in their natural position.

This plant is also known as the “Indian tracker,” it being said that the Indians, who now roam about over the beautiful plains of the Indian Territory, and even on those of Texas, used to track their enemies and game by observing the condition of leaves on the sensitive plant.

It also grows in Missouri, and, perhaps, in Arkansas, but among the rocky hills and cañons of Texas seems to be at home.—Alfred V. Kern, Wichita Falls, Wichita Co., Texas.

Young Walking-sticks.

I will tell you about a walking-stick I caught last summer. It was the largest one I had ever seen, though they are quite numerous in the woods about here. It measured four inches from its head to its tail. While waiting to get a bottle to preserve it in, I kept it in a small pasteboard box, and when I was ready to transfer it to the bottle of alcohol, I found it had laid six eggs. The eggs were about the size of a large pin’s-head, oval in shape, shiny black about four-fifths of their length, the other fifth white. Well, I put the bug in the bottle, and glued the eggs on a piece of stiff paper and put them away in a pasteboard box. The other day I happened to open the box and found that two of the eggs had hatched. The inmate of one was a perfectly formed little walking-stick one-fourth of an inch long, its legs about the thickness of a fine hair, and the same length as its body. The other one was two-thirds outside of its shell, and was of a bright green color.—John H. Kinzie, Riverside, Illinois.

Exchanges.

Mounted microscopic objects, mostly vegetal, for others, or for books on the microscope, vegetable histology, etc.—A. E. Warren, Jefferson, O.

Determined botanical specimens, for same. Send lists.—Norman C. Wilson, The Dalles, Oregon, Sec. Ch. 28.

Correspondence solicited.—Ch. 187, Newburyport, Mass. G. A. Noyes, Sec., Box 933.

I shall be glad to send specimens of anything I can get here, to those who will pay the postage, or send pressed flowers in return.—Kittie C. Roberts, 212 W. Peachtree street, Atlanta, Georgia.

A Correction.

We were misinformed by an unscrupulous person regarding our badge-maker, Mr. Hayward. He has not retired from business, but may be addressed as heretofore at 202 Broadway, N. Y.

Chapters, New and Reorganized.

No. Name. No. of Members. Address.

975 London, Eng. (G) 4 Francis Felix Francillon, 21 Regent’s Park Terrace, Gloucester gate, London, N. W.

230 Brazil, Ind. (A) 11 Geo. B. Bennett, Box 169.

28 The Dalles, Oregon (A) 12 Norman C. Wilson, Wasco Co.

Disbanded.

834 Westfield, Mass. (A) Miss Mary D. Clark.

511 Blackwater, Florida (A) Miss Kittie C. Roberts.

Secretaries of Chapters 701-800 will kindly forward their reports as soon as convenient. All are invited to join the Association.

Address all communications for this department, to

Mr. Harlan H. Ballard, Lenox, Mass.