200 Idle Days in Patagonia. 



in a public conveyance I noticed a fashionably- 

 dressed lady, of a singularly attractive appearance, 

 on the opposite seat, but a little higher up. Her 

 skin was somewhat pale, her hair dark, and her 

 eyes green ! " At last ! " I exclaimed, mentally, 

 glad as if I had found a priceless gem. It was 

 misery to me to have to observe her furtively, to 

 think that I should so soon lose sight of her ! 

 Several minutes passed, during which she did not 

 move her head, and still the eyes were green — not 

 one of the dull and dark hues that Broca imagined 

 and painted, but a clear, exquisitely beautiful sea- 

 green, as sea-water looks with a strong sunlight in 

 it, where it is deep and pure, in the harbour of some 

 rocky island under the tropics. At length, not yet 

 convinced, I moved a little higher up on my seat, so 

 that when I should next look at her her eyes would 

 meet mine full and straight. The wished (and 

 feared) moment came : alas ! the eyes were no 

 longer green, but grey, and not very pure in colour. 

 Having looked green when viewed obliquely, they 

 could not be a very pure grey : they were simply 

 grey eyes with an exceedingly thin pigment, so thin 

 as not to appear as pigment, eqnally spread over the 

 surface of the irides. This made the eyes in some 

 lights appear green, just as a dog's eyes, when the 

 animal sits in shadow and the upturned balls catch 

 the light, sometimes look pure green. I know a 

 dog, now living, whose eyes in such circumstances 

 always appear of that colour. But as a rule the 

 dog's eyes take a hyaline blue. 



