Madam How and Lady Why [87]
their lower jaws, and in the upper only holes into which those teeth fit; others like the bottle-nose, only two teeth or so in the lower jaw; and others, like the narwhal, two straight tusks in the upper jaw, only one of which grows, and is what you call a narwhal's horn.
Oh yes. I know of a walking-stick made of one.
And strangest of all, how the right-whales have a few little teeth when they are born, which never come through the gums; but, instead, they grow all along their gums, an enormous curtain of clotted hair, which serves as a net to keep in the tiny sea- animals on which they feed, and let the water strain out.
You mean whalebone? Is whalebone hair?
So it seems. And so is a rhinoceros's horn. A rhinoceros used to be hairy all over in old times: but now he carries all his hair on the end of his nose, except a few bristles on his tail. And the right-whale, not to be done in oddity, carries all his on his gums.
But have no whales any hair?
No real whales: but the Manati, which is very nearly a whale, has long bristly hair left. Don't you remember M.'s letter about the one he saw at Rio Janeiro?
This is all very funny: but what is the use of knowing so much about things' teeth and hair?
What is the use of learning Latin and Greek, and a dozen things more which you have to learn? You don't know yet: but wiser people than you tell you that they will be of use some day. And I can tell you, that if you would only study that gar-fish long enough, and compare him with another fish something like him, who has a long beak to his lower jaw, and none to his upper--and how he eats I cannot guess,--and both of them again with certain fishes like them, which M. Agassiz has found lately, not in the sea, but in the river Amazon; and then think carefully enough over their bones and teeth, and their history from the time they are hatched--why, you would find out, I believe, a story about the river Amazon itself, more wonderful than all the fairy tales you ever read.
Now there is luncheon ready. Come down below, and don't tumble down the companion-stairs; and by the time you have eaten your dinner we shall be very near the shore.
* * *
So? Here is my little man on deck, after a good night's rest. And he has not been the least sick, I hear.
Not a bit: but the cabin was so stuffy and hot, I asked leave to come on deck. What a huge steamer! But I do not like it as well as the yacht. It smells of oil and steam, and -
And pigs and bullocks too, I am sorry to say. Don't go forward above them, but stay here with me, and look round.
Where are we now? What are those high hills, far away to the left, above the lowlands and woods?
Those are the shore of the Old World--the Welsh mountains.
And in front of us I can see nothing but flat land. Where is that?
That is the mouth of the Severn and Avon; where we shall be in half an hour more.
And there, on the right, over the low hills, I can see higher ones, blue and hazy.
Those are an island of the Old World, called now the Mendip Hills; and we are steaming along the great strait between the Mendips and the Welsh mountains, which once was coral reef, and is now the Severn sea; and by the time you have eaten your breakfast we shall steam in through a crack in that coral-reef; and you will see what you missed seeing when you went to Ireland, because you went on board at night.
* * *
Oh! Where have we got to now? Where is the wide Severn Sea?
Two or three miles beyond us; and here we are in narrow little Avon.
Narrow indeed. I wonder that the steamer does not run against those rocks. But how beautiful they are, and how the trees hang down over the water, and are all reflected in it!
Yes. The gorge of the Avon is always lovely. I saw it first when I was a little boy like you; and I have seen it many a time since, in sunshine and in storm, and thought it more lovely every time. Look! there is something curious.
What? Those great rusty rings fixed into the rock?
Yes. Those may be as old, for aught I
Oh yes. I know of a walking-stick made of one.
And strangest of all, how the right-whales have a few little teeth when they are born, which never come through the gums; but, instead, they grow all along their gums, an enormous curtain of clotted hair, which serves as a net to keep in the tiny sea- animals on which they feed, and let the water strain out.
You mean whalebone? Is whalebone hair?
So it seems. And so is a rhinoceros's horn. A rhinoceros used to be hairy all over in old times: but now he carries all his hair on the end of his nose, except a few bristles on his tail. And the right-whale, not to be done in oddity, carries all his on his gums.
But have no whales any hair?
No real whales: but the Manati, which is very nearly a whale, has long bristly hair left. Don't you remember M.'s letter about the one he saw at Rio Janeiro?
This is all very funny: but what is the use of knowing so much about things' teeth and hair?
What is the use of learning Latin and Greek, and a dozen things more which you have to learn? You don't know yet: but wiser people than you tell you that they will be of use some day. And I can tell you, that if you would only study that gar-fish long enough, and compare him with another fish something like him, who has a long beak to his lower jaw, and none to his upper--and how he eats I cannot guess,--and both of them again with certain fishes like them, which M. Agassiz has found lately, not in the sea, but in the river Amazon; and then think carefully enough over their bones and teeth, and their history from the time they are hatched--why, you would find out, I believe, a story about the river Amazon itself, more wonderful than all the fairy tales you ever read.
Now there is luncheon ready. Come down below, and don't tumble down the companion-stairs; and by the time you have eaten your dinner we shall be very near the shore.
* * *
So? Here is my little man on deck, after a good night's rest. And he has not been the least sick, I hear.
Not a bit: but the cabin was so stuffy and hot, I asked leave to come on deck. What a huge steamer! But I do not like it as well as the yacht. It smells of oil and steam, and -
And pigs and bullocks too, I am sorry to say. Don't go forward above them, but stay here with me, and look round.
Where are we now? What are those high hills, far away to the left, above the lowlands and woods?
Those are the shore of the Old World--the Welsh mountains.
And in front of us I can see nothing but flat land. Where is that?
That is the mouth of the Severn and Avon; where we shall be in half an hour more.
And there, on the right, over the low hills, I can see higher ones, blue and hazy.
Those are an island of the Old World, called now the Mendip Hills; and we are steaming along the great strait between the Mendips and the Welsh mountains, which once was coral reef, and is now the Severn sea; and by the time you have eaten your breakfast we shall steam in through a crack in that coral-reef; and you will see what you missed seeing when you went to Ireland, because you went on board at night.
* * *
Oh! Where have we got to now? Where is the wide Severn Sea?
Two or three miles beyond us; and here we are in narrow little Avon.
Narrow indeed. I wonder that the steamer does not run against those rocks. But how beautiful they are, and how the trees hang down over the water, and are all reflected in it!
Yes. The gorge of the Avon is always lovely. I saw it first when I was a little boy like you; and I have seen it many a time since, in sunshine and in storm, and thought it more lovely every time. Look! there is something curious.
What? Those great rusty rings fixed into the rock?
Yes. Those may be as old, for aught I