There is a pretty microscopic formation on the sides of some of the papillæ. It consists of rows of small openings or sacs egg-shaped with very minute mouths at the surface. These are known to science as taste bulbs. They are so small that three hundred of them put together the long way will scarcely reach one inch. They are so numerous that 1,760 have been counted on one papilla of an ox's tongue. They are not entirely confined to the surface of the tongue, for they have been found in large numbers upon the soft palate and the uvula, and many have been discovered on the back side of the throat and down into the voice box, some of them even appearing upon the vocal cords. Their form is much like that of a long musk melon, but they are too small to be seen by the naked eye. The outer part or rind consists of rows of cells evidently formed to hold what is within. On the inside are from five to ten taste cells which are long enough to reach the whole length of the bulb and protrude slightly at the opening where they are finely pointed. They are attached at the other end and branch out as if to run to several extremely fine divisions of the nerves. Birds and reptiles have no taste bulbs in their papillæ. Tadpoles and freshwater fishes have similar bulbs in their skin, and it is thought they enjoy the taste of things around them without the necessity of taking them in at the mouth. We give the sense of taste more credit sometimes than it merits. What we regard as tastes are often flavors or only smells. What is taken in at the mouth gets to the nose by the back way if it is of the nature of most spices, and so by use of the nose and the imagination we taste things that do not affect the tongue at all. A cold in the head shows us we do not taste cinnamon, we merely experience its pungency as it smarts the tongue while its flavor we enjoy only with the nose. With some substances we have a mixed experience that passes for taste, but it is really a combination of taste, smell, and touch. With the nostrils held one can scarcely distinguish between small quantities of pure water and the same with a very little essence of cloves. The difference is easily observed with the nostrils open or after swallowing, for the odor of the mixture gets readily into the nose from either direction. It is curious to note that, although there are so many varieties of taste, man has but few words to describe them with. We know the taste of a thousand substances, and yet we are in nowise superior to the veriest savage in the matter of speaking about their flavors. We are obliged to speak in the same manner as the wild man of the forest and say that a given taste is like the taste of some other thing, only different.