New Evidence (?) bearing upon the Road-runner fence-building story. I suppose everybody who has ever heard of the road- runner knows the apocryphal story of its build- ing a thorny fence about sleeping rattlesnakes, in some one of its versions. This is one of the "tall" stories of the south western United States. The version that corresponds most nearly with my childhood recollection of it is that quoted in Bryant's "Habits and Food of the Roadrunner in California" (Uni- versity of California Press, 1916). I have an indistinct memory of having seen it in one of my early school books. I do not know personally anybody that really believes it to be true. Bryant refers to it as a myth; which has always been my attitude since I learned that the printed word was not infallible. Curiously, only last week, I saw a habitat group in the Snow Museum in Oakland, for the first time, showing two roadrunners and a rattlesnake in desert surroundings faithfully acting out this story: cactus corral and all. And "comes now" Mrs. May Patterson, who kindly hands me her copy of "Flowers and Gardens" for July 1937, published at Calcium, N.Y. by one Madison Cooper. On page 224 of this publication there is an article signed by May Lumpkin Pre Witt describing in circumstantial detail the begin- ni ng and the end of such an episode witnessed by her somewhere in Texas-place not stated. She sees the sleeping snake; the road- r unner discovering it; the beginning of the corral of mesquite; watches for 15 minutes, but has to leave for two hours. On return- ing at the end of that interval, she finds the dead snake within a barricade, pierced by a thorny limb and with head and back bad- ly lacerated. (I will call to attention of M.V.Z. and suggest follow-up). On the afternoon of the 21st. Okii again, while lying comfort- ably upon a hand held close to my chin , treated me to a long and varied slumber song. I began to catch some of the phrases, one of which approximated the upward run of Brownie's "Purple, one, two t hree" call. Toward the end of it a sharp jar on my front teeth announced that Okii had suddenly thrust his bill between my closed lips: a trick that I have to look out for, as I do not fancy second hand centipede and yellow-jacket juice. Incidentally, one of the latter insects buzzed about with an Argentine ant clinging to one foot. Rhody was again given an opportunity to claim the small gopher snake before the camera. He was interested enough to follow and watch intently while I took the snake from the box, but would have none of it and kept an eye peeled to detect any signs of my moving toward the shop-yard. In fact, intentionally or accidentally, placed himself where he could watch the gate. I finally gave up, let the snake go for good and all, and was promptly tagged by the bird. No display. ("Watching the gate" merely consisted in hanging about near it). Rhody appeared to have forsaken his "optimum" acacia during day time. For the last few days, I find, he has adopted the branches of an acacia melanoxylon against the east wall of the cage. From his perch there he can look into the upper window of the annex and can step on to the roof with little effort, there to restore his thermal equilibrium. This tree is covered with tan colored seed pods and Rhody's tawny and green coloration blends into it perfectly. One can look directly at him without seeing him. If he happens to be there and one looks in the right spot long enough and fixedly, it is possible to witness a revers- al of the Cheshire Cat fading process! (This ribbon is acquiring the