“The Coryphodon was horrified, The Dinoceras was shocked, And they chased young Eohippus, But he skipped away and mocked; Then they laughed enormous laughter, And they groaned enormous groans, And they bade young Eohippus Go view his father’s bones. Said they, ‘You always were as small And mean as now we see, And that’s conclusive evidence That you’re always going to be.’ ‘What! Be a great, tall, handsome beast, With hoofs to gallop on? Why, you’d have to change your nature!’ Said the Loxolophodon. They considered him disposed of And retired with gait serene, That was the way they argued In the early Eocene.” “Loxolophodon isn’t early Eocene, either,” protested Perry. “It’s a bully rhyme, Father, but it has got scientific kinks.” “How?” “Well, take the line, ‘On five toes he scampered.’ Eohippus didn’t have five toes, if I’ve got it right. I know when I stopped at New York, on the way home from that great trip we had in the Fayum, I spent over an hour in that alcove of the horses in the American Museum, and I’m just as sure as I can be that the Eohippus skeleton they exhibited there had only four toes on the forefeet and three on the hind feet.” [Illustration: _Courtesy of American Museum of Natural History._ FINDING THE EOBASILEUS. Haystack Mountain, in the Bad Lands of Wyoming: the museum explorer is standing at spot where the skeleton was discovered.] [Illustration: _Courtesy of American Museum of Natural History._ THE EOBASILEUS OR LOXOLOPHODON. A four-horned amblypod (blunt-feet) the largest and last of his race, of which vast herds roamed over the United States three million years ago.] The scientist looked across the table at his brother. “We’re going to make a paleontologist out of this chap after all, I believe,” he said. “Now, Perry, was there any horse earlier than the Eohippus?” “There’s one awfully like Eohippus that they found in the London Clay,” the boy answered. “Let’s see if I can remember what he’s called? He isn’t a ‘Hippus’ anything!” There was a moment’s silence. “Hyra—Hyratherium,” he said at last. “Hyracotherium,” the scientist corrected him, shaking his head. “That’s it. But I could never quite make out, Uncle George, whether he was much different from Eohippus. He didn’t have five toes, did he?” “No one knows,” was the answer. “Some of these days we may find a complete skeleton of Hyracotherium in that big stretch of clay under London, but, so far, there’s only a skull known. Personally, I think he’s the same as an Eohippus. Of course there are rudiments of the fourth and fifth toes on the hind feet of that type. But was there ever a true five-toed horse?” “I don’t know.” “It seems to me,” said his uncle, “that you’d better come along with me and try to find out. I don’t know, either.” Perry almost jumped from his chair. “Oh, Uncle George,” he said, “you’re going off on another expedition!”