These notes have, on more than one occasion, cited instances where Rhody, having partially satisfied his hunger, has followed me to the mousery, been offered a succession of mice of progressively smaller size (each having been removed from his sight on his refusing it) until one that would "just fit the vacancy in his stomach," according to his judgment, was displayed, whereupon he accepted it at once. This happened many times. In each case his refusal was indicated by his standing patiently by me waiting, (paying no further attention to the mouse after the first glance) in the expectation that I would eventually produce one that was suitable. He would only walk away when, as I assume, he had abandoned hope of a satisfactory conclusion; but he would always return if I produced a mouse of the right size. On the present occasion, at 1:03, I looked over the western fence, saw him at his post, called him and he came. I offered him first, one worm at a time, through the wire mesh. He made no move to take it. It was offered through the identical opening (a slightly enlarged one) which I customarily use. He was only 18 inches from my hand. I then placed several in the palm of my hand and reached a few inches through the opening. One look, but otherwise he did not budge. I added more worms without effect. He has never refused worms under any of these conditions before. He had been up a half hour or less. Presumably he had not had anything to eat, since he has not been known to forage within a half hour after leaving his roost. He should have been hungry, and presumably was. The time of day (at this season) when I have been offering him his mouse had arrived, or nearly so. (I have not been absolutely regular in this). The "hole" in his stomach was a big one. Worms would not fill the bill. He had come to me in the expectation of getting something worth while. He was disappointed, but as he remained waiting patiently, his judgement, based on past experience, told him to be patient and make no compromise. (There is anthropomorphism for you). It was now time for me to act, which I did on my own judgment, based on my past experience. I walked off, calling for him to follow, which he did, but he would not come through the fence. So I left him and went and got a mouse all the way back to the shop. He was waiting at the hole under the fence when I returned. I carried the mouse so that he could not see it, yet as soon as he saw me coming, he crawled through under the hole (notwithstanding that he fears to pass under the trees in this part of the garden (hawks) ran toward me, (he usually saunters) jumped to the top of the retaining wall where I was, suddenly fled in panic at rustling overhead (a towhee) recovered, came back and I then showed him the mouse for the first time, although a moment before I had shown him the red paste-board box in which I had carried it. He took the mouse at once and swallowed it kicking. He waited a minute or so, still fearful of something overhead, then flew over the fence (an unusual act). He was plainly uneasy in these surroundings. The foregoing offers plenty of opportunity for speculation, but only one phase will be briefly indicated here, and that is: his apparent refusal of well-liked food if it is offered in quantity (or bulk) that, apparently he is by some means or other aware, will not exactly satisfy his food requirement for the rest of the day and thus enable him to go to roost. Now it is possible, I suppose, to fill him up with meal-worms, yet, in his experience, this has never been done. Maybe he "thinks" it can not be done, or does not want it to be done, hence refused them where conditions