The most common shell to the layman is the oyster (Ostrea virginica), the cultivation of which occupies the attention of a large number of men and the investment of considerable capital. The oyster is free and active when young, but becomes attached to some submerged object early in life. Oyster culturists take advantage of this habit by erecting poles in the water to which the young oysters attach themselves. The shells of the different species of oyster are not generally of much beauty, but a related family, the Spondylidae, or spiny oysters, are among the most beautiful of bivalves. In this family the shell is ornamented by many long spines and frills, and the colors are different shades of red, yellow and pink. The most beautiful species are found in the Gulf of California. The space at our command is far too limited to adequately discuss the many curious and interesting animals which make up the class Pelecypoda. Much might be said of the Solen or razor-shell, with its curious foot which is so great a help in digging burrows; of the Pholads, which perforate and make burrows in clay, wood and even in the hardest rock; and of the strange Teredo or “shipworm,” with a long, worm-like body which bores into ships, wharves and any wooden object within reach. But enough has been written and pictured to show the reader that the unpretentious clam, mussel or oyster and their relatives have many interesting habits, are encased in beautiful shells, and that some species are of great economic importance to man. Frank Collins Baker. THE PASSING OF SUMMER. Where have the charms of summer gone? Part of its sunny, azure skies The bluebirds southward bore away, And how could sunset splendors stay, Or glory of the early dawn, When not a tanager now vies With orange-flaming orioles, And humming-birds no magic bowls Of nectar drain in gardens fair, Or flash like jewels through the air? Where have the summer’s beauties flown? Afar on swallows’ purple wings; With blackbirds’ iridescent throats, And with the thrushes’ perfect notes Of rapture into music grown; With blue the indigo bunting brings, A sapphire set with emerald leaves, And finch-gold that June interweaves With silver from the kingbird’s breast And studs with pearls of many a nest. When will the summer come again? When olive warblers northward fly, And to their hints of budding green The grosbeaks add a rosy sheen Of warming skies: O, not till then Will summer come and winter die! —Benjamin Karr. [Illustration: ] THE COLLARED LIZARD. (_Crotaphytus collaris._)