The young of these Spanish salamanders are at birth about half or three quarters of an inch long, with branched gills. They look like tadpoles or “pollywogs,” and at once take to the water and remain there until they reach the adult form. The salamander larvæ grow to considerable size before they make their final change of form. Their gills are very large, and as they swim about they look as if they had trimmed their necks with foliage. In the water they find themselves very comfortable until they approach the adult period. Then they become restless and dig holes for themselves in the mud or sand of the streams or ponds where they live. These lairs exactly fit their bodies, and are so placed that as they lie there with their heads out of water every slight rise or ripple of the water will overflow them and keep the lairs well wet. Thus they breathe in the water by their gills, and at the same time practice air-breathing; for their gills are now shrivelling away, and they are progressing toward the air-breathing condition of the true salamander state. A salamander much like the spotted one, but having no lighter spots on its skin, lives in high lands where there are no stagnant waters fit for a resting-place for its eggs. This black salamander’s young ones are born two at a time, and are in all respects except size, precisely like their parents. The ash-colored salamander is common in the woods of the Eastern United States. It is only a few inches long, but is not so small as its cousin the “microscopic salamander,” a native of the Mississippi Valley, a lithe, brisk little creature, of a gray color, fond of hiding in logs and under bark or stones. Black, gray and dust-color are the usual shades of a salamander’s coat, but in the Rocky Mountains some may be found adorned with red, yellow, and green spots and stripes. A very common variety in the United States is the red-banded salamander, distinguished not only for the red band down his back, but for his activity in climbing. Shut him in a room and he darts up the wall lightly as a sailor goes up a mast. Put him in a glass case, he runs up the glass with the ease of a fly, and hangs from the plate at the top back downward, moving his dumpy head from side to side. You almost fancy a grin on his wide mouth, and a leer in his bright, black eyes, as if he said, “How does this strike you?” The secret of these feats is, that he can adhere to smooth surfaces by means of a moisture diffused over the lower part of his body and the soles of his feet.