dom, and the woodcock wears a vacuous ex- 

 pression that is positively imbecile. 



Yet it is neither imbecility nor wisdom, but 

 merely beaks and eyes. "With eyes to the front 

 and a beak made for spectacles, the owl looks 

 very professorial. The woodcock's eyes are 

 at the rear and in the top of his head. If he 

 wore glasses, they would rest on the back of his 

 neck. 



This position for the bird's eyes, however, is 

 a convenient one. He literally needs to see out 

 of the top of his head a part of the time. His 

 only food is angleworms, for the catching of 

 which nature provides him a three-inch probe 

 of a bill. Then, for his safety and comfort when 

 sounding for the worms, in order to keep his 

 eyes out of the mire, she puts them up on the 

 top of his head, just as a clam-digger rolls up 

 his sleeves when at his task in the mud. 



Nature is preeminently practical, even at the 

 cost of appearance, as the eyes of the woodcock 

 attest. And she has done another practical 

 thing for this freak child which adds to his 

 oddity and interest— this time in connection 

 with his beak. 



[218] 



