Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 July 1891 — AN ANIMAL WITH A NAME. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AN ANIMAL WITH A NAME.

Something About the Helioderma Horrid um. “Let me introduce you to the Helioderma borridum,” said C. K. Giles, the State street jeweler, yesterdav, pointing to a glass case which stands in a conspicuous position in his wholesale department. The object referred to by such a resonant title was a little mass of black and gold beads stretched on one corner of the case on a heap of sawdust. Presently the mass became movable, a leg stretched itself out at one end, and the Helio, etc., stood revealed as one of the largest lizards ever hatched. The animal is about sixteen inches in length, and of genuine Falstaftian girth. The skin is covered completely

with beautiful shaped scales, and, like Jacob’s pwes, spotted and ringstreaked. The shape of the spots is wonderfully regular, bearing a strong resemblance to the black and gold wall-paper of a dado. The tail is long and thicker, than that of most; lizards. , Round it run three or four rings of gold. The head is broad and flat, with protuberances which con-

ceal the tiny eyes when viewed from above. “Lou are not obliged to call him Helioderma horridum all the time,” said Mr. Giles. “Some people call him Helioderma suspeetum, and others the Gila monster. I call him Tommy.’Here, Tommy.” Mr. Giles clutched the reptile affectionately between his finger and thumb and set him on the floor. He moved as leisurely and dignifiedly as if he were at home on the sands of Arizona. His forked tongue flashed incessantly in and out, hjp eves rolled and he looked altogether as if he might be an uncomfortable customer to deal with yvere he to take a notion in that direction. For three years he has lived in Chicago and has succeeded in growing fat on two eggs per week for nine months out of the year and a Lenten fast the remaining three. The eighthour day has no charm for Tommy. He only asks for three months’ sleep and then he is ready to enjoy himself for the rest of the year. When he is at home he is the subject of more hairraising tales than any beast of his dimensions. but Mr. Giles will not even concede the fact that he posses a drop of poison in his whole anatomy. “He is especially interesting,” said his owner, “for he forms the link between the lizards and the crocodile genus. He is probably the only specimen in captivity besides a brother in the Smithsonian Institution, and his race is almost extinct.” —Chicago Globe,