ng must be done
with it. Look at the embarrassment which a nervous young man shows about
the disposal of his hands; how he thrusts them into his trouser pockets,
hangs them by their thumbs from the arm-holes of his waistcoat, or gives
them a walking-stick to play with. I like to imagine what such a fellow
would do with a long tail if he had it--how he would wind it round each
leg in turn, rub up his back hair, and describe figures on the floor.
But no animal so self-conscious as man could bear up long under the
nervous strain of having to think continually of its tail. It would die
young and the race would become extinct. Perhaps it did.

A final word on the conclusion of the whole matter, for these
reflections have a moral. As habit becomes character, so expression
hardens into feature. The tail of a sheep grows downwards, but that of a
goat upwards, and this is the only infallible outward mark of
distinction between the two animals. But it is the permanent record of a
long history. The sheep was never anything but sheepish; the goat and
its forefathers were pert as kids and insolent when their beards grew.
It is useless to inquire why insolence should express itself by an
upturned tail until someone can advance a reason why it should express
itself in another way.

For proof of the fact you need go no farther than your own dogs. The
ancestral wolf, or jackal, hunting and fighting, fearing and hoping,
showed every changing mood by the pose of its tail; but a change came
when it acquired an assured position of security and importance as the
chosen companion of man, so dreaded by all its kith and kin. The tail
went up at once and stayed there; when it could go no higher, it curled
over. But promotion breeds conceit only in base natures. The greyhound
is a gentleman, respectful and self-respecting, and it shows that by the
very carriage of its tail. Only a snob at heart, petted and pampered for
many generations, could have produced that perfect incarnation of smug
self-satisfaction, the pug. Let us take the lesson home. The thoughts on
which we let our minds dwell, and the sentiments that we harbour in our
hearts, are the chisels with which we are carving out our faces and
those of our children's children.

IV

NOSES

Some may think that I have chosen a trivial subject, and they will look
for frivolous treatment of it. I can only hope that they will be
disappointed. There is nothing that the progress of scie