There are one or two other species of sundew--one of them almost as common in Europe and North America as the ordinary round-leaved species--which act in the same way, except that, having their leaves longer in proportion to their breadth, their sides never curl inward, but they are much disposed to aid the action of their tentacles by incurving the tip of the leaf, as if to grasp the morsel. There are many others, with variously less efficient and less advantageously arranged insectivorous apparatus, which, in the language of the new science, may be either on the way to acquire something better, or of losing what they may have had, while now adapting themselves to a proper vegetable life. There is one member of the family (Drosophyllum Lusitanicum), an almost shrubby plant, which grows on dry and sunny hills in Portugal and Morocco--which the villagers call "the flycatcher," and hang up in their cottages for the purpose--the glandular tentacles of which have wholly lost their powers of movement, if they ever had any, but which still secrete, digest, and absorb, being roused to great activity by the contact of any animal matter. A friend of ours once remarked that it was fearful to contemplate the amount of soul that could be called forth in a dog by the sight of a piece of meat. Equally wonderful is the avidity for animal food manifested by these vegetable tentacles, that can "only stand and wait" for it. Only a brief chapter is devoted to Dionaea of North Carolina, the Venus's fly-trap, albeit, "from the rapidity and force of its movements, one of the most wonderful in the world." It is of the same family as the sundew; but the action is transferred from tentacles on the leaf to the body of the leaf itself, which is transformed into a spring-trap, closing with a sudden movement over the alighted insect. No secretion is provided beforehand either for allurement or detention; but after the captive is secured, microscopic glands within the surface of the leaf pour out an abundant gastric juice to digest it. Mrs. Glass's classical directions in the cook-book, "first catch your hare," are implicitly followed.