ns, succeeded with great labour, and
not without reiterated struggles, in wresting the region from his uncle,
and proved himself the better earth-shaker of the two; first, by means
of subterranean fires, he threw up a great many small islands, which,
rising at his bidding, as thick as mushrooms after a thunder-storm,
broke up the continuous expanse of water into lakes; and by continual
perseverance in this plan, he at last rescued the _whole_ plain from his
antagonist, who, marshaling his remaining forces into a narrow file, was
fain to retreat under the high banks of the Allier, and to evacuate a
large tract of country, which had been his own for many centuries.

NATURAL HISTORY, &c.

The natural history of Vichy--that is, so much of it as those who are
not naturalists will care to know--is given in a few sentences. Its
Fauna contains but few kinds of quadrupeds, and no great variety of
birds; amongst reptiles again, while snakes abound as to number, the
variety of species is small. You see but few fish at market or at table;
and a like deficiency of land and fresh water mollusks is observable;
while, in compensation for all these deficiencies, and in consequence,
no doubt, of some of them, insects abound. So great, indeed, is the
superfoetation of these tribes, that the most unwearying collector
will find, all the summer through, abundant employment for his _two_
nets. If the Fauna, immediately around Vichy, must be conceded to be
small, her Flora, till recently, was much more copious and interesting;
_was_--since an improved agriculture, here as every where, has rooted
out, in its progress, many of the original occupants of the ground, and
colonized it with others--training hollyhocks and formal sunflowers to
supplant pretty Polygalas and soft Eufrasies; and instructing Ceres so
to fill the open country with her standing armies, that Flora,
_outbearded_ in the plain, should retire for shelter to the hills, where
she now holds her court. Spring sets in early at Vichy; sometimes in the
midst of _February_ the surface of the hills is already hoar with almond
blossoms. Early in April, anemones and veronicas dapple the greensward;
and the willows, deceived by the promise of warm weather, which is not
to last, put forth their _blossoms_ prematurely, and a month later put
forth _their leaves_ to weep over them. By the time May has arrived, the
last rude easterly gale, so prevalent here during the winter months, has
swept