Having observed the abundance of these creatures, a few small branches to which they were appended, were placed in the glass trough, and viewed with powers of sixty and one hundred linear. Some had tumbled down as shapeless lumps, others presented broad funnel-shaped bodies; while others stretched themselves to great length like the long, narrow post-horns which still wake the echoes of a few old-fashioned towns. The ciliary motion of the elegant wreath was active and rapid, causing quite a stir among all the little particles, alive and dead; and when the right sort of food came near the corkscrew entrance to the mouth, down it went, and if conspicuous for colour, was subsequently seen apparently embedded in little cavities, which Ehrenberg supposed were separate stomachs, although that theory is now rejected. One advantage of viewing these objects in a sufficient quantity of water, to leave them in freedom, is that they frequently turn themselves, so that you can see right down into them; and the drawing given in the frontispiece represents such a view, which is the most favorable for the exhibition of the mouth. To make out the details of their structure, to see the nucleus and other organs, the flattening in the live-box is useful, and it enables much higher powers to be employed. [Illustration: A, B, C, D, Stentor polymorphus in different degrees of expansion. A large specimen is one twenty-fourth of an inch long.] After leaving the Anacharis in a glass jar for a few days, the Stentors multiplied exceedingly; some clung to the sides of the vessel in sociable communities, others hung from the surface of the water, and crowds settled upon the stems, visibly changing their tint, as the Stentor green was much bluer than that of the plant. Scores swam about in all sorts of forms. Now they looked like cylindrical vessels with expanding brims, now globular, now oddly distorted, until all semblance of the original shape was lost. Many were found in shiny tubes, but these were never so lively or green as the free swimmers, but mostly of a dingy dirty hue. These housekeepers were more timid and cautious than the roving tribe. They came slowly out of their dens, drew back at the slightest alarm, never took their tails from home, and only extended their full length when certain not to be disturbed. Some authors have thought they only take to private lodgings when they feel a little bit poorly, but others dispute this opinion, and I do not think it is correct. I have found these Stentors at all seasons, from January to the autumn, but they are never so numerous, nor aggregated in numbers like the roving sort. Whether they are old folks, who are tired of the world and its gaieties, and devote the remainder of their lives to contemplation, or whether they are bachelors disappointed in love, I am unable to say; but they are very inferior in beauty to the "gay and glittering crowd."[19]