[Illustration: THE NOSTRILS OF THE APTERYX ARE AT THE TIP OF ITS BEAK.]

But let us return to the evolution of the nose. In these days of
universal "Nature study" nobody need be told that the practice of
breathing through the nostrils was introduced by the amphibians and
reptiles. The former (frogs and toads) take to it only when they come of
age, but lizards, snakes and all other reptiles do it from infancy. But
the nose is not yet. That is something too delicate to come out of a
cold-blooded snout covered with hard scales. Birds, too, by having their
mouth parts encased in a horny bill seem to be debarred from wearing
noses. And yet there is one primeval fowl, most ancient of all the
feathered families, which has come near it. I mean the apteryx, that
eccentric, wingless recluse which hides itself in the scrub jungles of
New Zealand. Its nostrils, unlike those of every other bird, are at the
tip of its beak, which is swollen and sensitive; and Dr. Buller says
that as it wanders about in the night it makes a continual sniffing and
softly taps the walls of its cage with the point of its bill. But the
apteryx is one of those odd geniuses which come into the world too soon,
and perish ineffectual. Its kindred are all extinct, and so will it be
ere long.

[Illustration: A BOLD ATTEMPT TO GROW IN THE CASE OF A TAPIR]

When we come to the beasts we find the right conditions at last for the
growth of the nose. Take the horse for an example of the average beast
without idiosyncrasy. Its profile is nearly a straight line from the
crown to the nostrils, beyond which it slopes downwards to the lips. The
skin of this part is soft and smooth, without hair, and the horse dearly
loves to have it fondled. The sense of touch is evidently uppermost. At
this stage there was what to the eye of fancy looks like a bold attempt