My friend was a member of a Natural History Society, as was also the gentleman who had found the so-called ‘viper.’ His hobby being geology rather than zoology, he had been breaking and turning over fragments of rock in a sort of dell, when he had discovered the harmless little creature, which he—a scholarly man, by the way—would have immediately put to death, as a dangerous viper, had not my friend—also a learned man, though not versed in snakes—reserved it for me, and with much caution transferred it to a tin box. It was subsequently consigned to a bottle, and tightly corked until I could see it. My friend now promised me he would not put the ‘deaf viper’ to death, as his lady relatives were daily entreating him to do; and a few days afterwards, he shook out of its narrow prison on to my table—not a viper, but a feeble slow-worm, the poor little thing having had no food during those eight or ten days of captivity. No wonder, then, that the half-famished reptile grew easily reconciled to an improved home with fresh grass and moss and other luxuries, and soon learned to recognise its preserver. Soon a companion was brought for it, one freshly caught and full of health and vigour. This one was not so easily reconciled to a glass house, and only by slow degrees would it allow itself to be taken up and handled. Another year, my saurian family increased to nine, including all the three British species, and all living amicably together in one large bell-glass. I will not trouble my readers with the nine names by which the nine lizards were known in the domestic circle. Scientifically, they were _Anguis fragilis_, _Lacerta agilis_, and _Zootica vivipara_; the last so called from its giving birth to live young. _Anguis fragilis_ also produces its young alive; or, as in the case of one of my own, in a membranous case or ‘shell,’ quite entire, but easily ruptured. The specific name _agilis_ has been applied to the larger lacertine; but a more agile, swift, and flashing little creature than _Zootica vivipara_ can scarcely exist; so that the true names of these three species of lizard are not, after all, so truly descriptive. _Zootica_ is much smaller, and must have acquired its astonishing celerity protectively, the wee animal having no other safeguard than in flight. And its suppleness equals its activity. Caught and held in the closed hand so tightly that one almost feared to crush it, it would nevertheless turn itself round, or rather double itself completely back and escape the other way, where no outlet seemed possible; or between the fingers, where you least expected. It is extremely restless and timid, and less easily tamed than _lacerta_. One of my _zooticas_ had a peculiar dread of being handled, and was so ever on the alert, watching my slightest approach, and looking up sideways out of one eye, and with its head on one side in such a bird-like manner, that it acquired the name of ‘Birdie.’ Birdie seemed guided by intellect more than any