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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
139
What
if
the
water
fails,
after
all?
Then
Mr.
Gosse’s
artificial
sea-water
will
form
a
perfect
substitute.
You
may
buy
the
requisite
salts
(for
there
are
more
salts
than
“salt”
in
sea-water)
from
any
chemist
to
whom
Mr.
Gosse
has
entrusted
his
discovery,
and,
according
to
his
directions,
make
sea-water
for
yourself.
One
more
hint
before
we
part.
If,
after
all,
you
are
not
going
down
to
the
sea-side
this
year,
and
have
no
opportunities
of
testing
“the
wonders
of
the
shore,”
you
may
still
study
Natural
History
in
your
own
drawing-room,
by
looking
a
little
into
“the
wonders
of
the
pond.”
I
am
not
jesting;
a
fresh-water
aquarium,
though
by
no
means
as
beautiful
as
a
salt-water
one,
is
even
more
easily
established.
A
glass
jar,
floored
with
two
or
three
inches
of
pond-mud
(which
should
be
covered
with
fine
gravel
to
prevent
the
mud
washing
up);
a
specimen
of
each
of
two
water-plants
which
you
may
buy
now
at
any
good
shop
in
Covent
Garden,
Vallisneria
spiralis
(which
is
said
to
give
to
the
Canvas-backed
duck
of
America
its
peculiar
richness
of
flavour),
and
Anacharis
alsinastrum,
that
magical
weed
which,
lately
introduced
from
Canada
among
timber,
has
multiplied,
self-sown,
to
so
prodigious
an
extent,
that
it
bid
fair,
a
few
years
since,
to
choke
the
navigation
not
only
of
our
canals
and
fen-rivers,
but
of
the
Thames
itself:
{206}
or,
in
default
of
these,
some
of
the
more
delicate
pond-weeds;
such
as
Callitriche,
Potamogeton
pusillum,
and,
best
of
all,
perhaps,
the
beautiful
Water-Milfoil
(Myriophyllium),
whose
comb-like
leaves
are
the
haunts
of
numberless
rare
and
curious
animalcules:—
these
(in
themselves,
from
the
transparency
of
their
circulation,
interesting
microscopic
objects)
for
oxygen-breeding
vegetables;
and
for
animals,
the
pickings
of
any
pond;
a
minnow
or
two,
an
eft;
a
few
of
the
delicate
pond-snails
(unless
they
devour
your
plants
too
rapidly):
water-beetles,
of
activity
inconceivable,
and
that
wondrous
bug
the
Notonecta,
who
lies
on
his
back
all
day,
rowing
about
his
boat-shaped
body,
with
one
long
pair
of
oars,
in
search
of
animalcules,
and
the
moment
the
lights
are
out,
turns
head
over
heels,
rights
himself,
and
opening
a
pair
of
handsome
wings,
starts
to
fly
about
the
dark
room
in
company
with
his
friend
the
water-beetle,
and
(I
suspect)
catch
flies;
and
then
slips
back
demurely
into
the
water
with
the
first
streak
of
dawn.
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