140 BIRD NOTES 



open the window oftener than I should, though 

 only for an instant. 



August 17, 1886. 



I find my opera glass (euroscope) of great use 

 in bringing the birds within watching distance ; 

 but it is curious how quickly birds find out that 

 they are being watched. I do not think there is 

 anything they fear so much as an eye ; and, by- 

 the-by, it occurred to me the other day to wonder 

 whether the eyes on butterflies' wings might not 

 be, for that reason, slightly protective. I assure 

 you, as I was watching one of those brown butter- 

 flies with eyes on their wings the other day, I 

 felt just as if the thing was looking at me through 

 them. And to-day I noticed a small moth (dark 

 orange bordered with black, I think) with eyes on 

 it that had two very small specks of white on 

 them which exactly answered to the reflected 

 lights in the eye ; those sparks, mysterious to the 

 ignorant, that used to be taken to be the soul 

 itself. Some have three great eyes on each wing 

 staring at one. If I were a bird, I am sure I 

 should be frightened at them. 



November 28, 1886. 



My uncle John was a great lover of birds. 

 He not only had a good collection of stuffed birds, 

 and of books on them Gould's magnificent folios, 

 Bewick's, &c. but also an aviary full of gold and 



