ing grasshoppers, as I proved by going out there and watching the performance. When he does this his "expression" is bright and interested. He pretended to ignore me, but his movements worked him closer to me just the same, and when he reached me he lost interest in grasshoppers; though even then he affected to regard my presence as unimportant. Nevertheless he was quick to catch the first worm tossed. Later he came home to get meat in the cage and a mouse at the shop. Still later I unintentionally gave him a scare by suddenly appearing at the gate of the shop yard as he was about to enter directly at my feet. This yard is entirely surrounded by wall and he can not see what is inside until he reaches the gate. When I nearly stepped on him he darted off like a flash, but stopped abruptly not more than 6 feet away, then followed me in promptly, with no sign of fear, confident that I would follow my accustomed pattern--which, of course, I did. See how quickly the bird, through his acquired knowledge of my habits and instant recognition of me overcame his instinctive fear and flight. He was not coming straight through the gate, but turning the corner as he walked parallel to the wall. Therefore he did not see me until I was upon him. His speed of departure was certainly no less than that of a man running a hundred yards in 10 seconds (about 20 miles per hour). In all probability it was twice that; but taking the lower figure, the elapsed time between his first seeing me and his abrupt halt was of the order of one fifth of a second. In that short period of time he perceived a fancied danger, became fright- end, fled twenty yards, recognized the dangerous object as a friend, overcame his instinctive fear through acquired knowledge of the friend's characteristics and acted upon that knowledge. Incidentally it will be noted also that my alarming departure from pattern did not destroy his confidence that the rest of the pattern would be followed out normally. (This pattern business works both ways!) August 24th. At about 8 A.M. I looked for Rhody in his accustomed haunts, including the field to the south, without success; but when, after deciding that he was not to be found, I happened to glance at the saw-bench (pp.1233-A and B) there he was, placidly observing me, indifferent to my wanderings. However, when I entered the cage 30 feet away, he dropped to the ground and unleashed a series of serio-comic dashes and retreats in and around the shrubbery, with spread tail and wings and peekaboo effects for the benefit of im- aginary kindred spirits, then came to the wire separating us and waited as if expectant of well merited applause; though what he wanted was, of course, worms. But why all the monkey-business? It's a mystery to me. Rhody, though friendly and "tame", as the notes show, remains essentially a wild creature, always alert when there are fellow creatures moving about in his immediate vicinity and never com- pletely off guard, even with me. Scores of times I have observed that he comes to me more confidently when there is a barrier, such as a wire fence or the wire netting of the cage, between us. Thus, on this occasion, when I approached the wire from inside he came promptly to meet me and sat close to the wire, reaching through the mesh for each of the 20 or 30 worms offered one at a time, taking each gently from my fingers. Yet one awkward and too quick a movement on my part caused him to jump back hastily.