Calmet's description of the Chameleon is curiously minute:--"It has four feet, and on each foot three claws. Its tail is long: with this, as well as with his feet, it fastens itself to the branches of trees. Its tail is flat, its nose long, ending in an obtuse point; its back is sharp, its skin plaited, and jagged like a saw, from the neck to the last joint of the tail, and upon its head it has something like a comb; like a fish, it has no neck. Some have asserted that it lives only upon air, but it has been observed to feed on flies, catched with its tongue, which is about ten inches long and three thick, made of white flesh, round, but flat at the end, or hollow and open, resembling an elephant's trunk. It also shrinks, and grows longer. This animal is said to assume the colour of those things to which it is applied; but our modern observers assure us that its natural colour, when at rest, and in the shade, is a bluish-grey; though some are yellow, others green, but both of a smaller kind. When it is exposed to the sun, the grey changes into a darker grey, inclining to a dun colour, and its parts which have least of the light upon them are changed into spots of different colours. Sometimes, when it is handled, it seems speckled with dark spots, inclining to green. If it be put upon a black hat, it appears to be of a violet colour; and sometimes, if it be wrapped up in linen, it is white; but it changes colour only in some parts of the body." Its changes of colour have been commemorated by the poets. Shakspeare has-- "I can add colours ev'n to the Chameleon: Change shapes with Proteus, for advantage." Dryden has-- "The thin Chameleon, fed with air, receives The colour of the thing to which it cleaves." Prior has-- "As the Chameleon, which is known To have no colours of his own, But borrows from his neighbour's hue His white or black, his green or blue." Gay, in his charming fable of the Spaniel and the Chameleon, "scarce distinguished from the green," makes the latter thus reply to the taunts of the pampered spaniel:-- "'Sir,' says the sycophant, 'like you, Of old, politer life I knew: Like you, a courtier born and bred, Kings lean'd their ear to what I said: My whisper always met success; The ladies prais'd me for address; I knew to hit each courtier's passion, And flatter'd every vice in fashion: But Jove, who hates the liar's ways, At once cut short my prosperous days, And, sentenced to retain my nature, Transform'd me to this crawling creature. Doom'd to a life obscure and mean, I wander'd in the silvan scene: For Jove the heart alone regards; He punishes what man rewards. How different is thy case and mine! With men at least you sup and dine; While I, condemned to thinnest fare, Like those I flatter'd, fed on air.'"