ABOUT TOES 5 



friend was nearly hypnotised by the sight, yet it 

 scarcely strikes us as a wonder when a parrot, standing 

 on one foot, takes its meals with the other. It is 

 a wonder, and stamps the parrot as a bird of talent. 

 A mine of hidden possibilities is in us all, but those 

 who dig resolutely into it and bring out treasure 

 are few. 



And let us note that the art of standing began 

 with birds. Frogs sit, and, as far as I know, every 

 reptile, be it lizard, crocodile, alligator, or tortoise, 

 lays its body on the ground when not actually carry- 

 ing it. And these have each four fat legs. Contrast 

 the flamingo, which, having only two, and those 

 like willow wands, tucks up one of them and sleeps 

 poised high on the other, like a tulip on its stem. 



Note also that one toe has been altogether dis- 

 carded by birds as superfluous. The germ, or bud, 

 must be there, for the Dorking fowl has produced a 

 fifth toe under some influence of the poultry-yard, 

 but no natural bird has more than four. Except 

 in swifts, which never perch, but cling to rocks and 

 walls, one is turned backwards, and, by a cunning 

 contrivance, the act of bending the leg draws 

 them all automatically together. So a hen closes 

 its toes at every step it takes, as if it grasped some- 

 thing, and, of course, when it settles down on its 

 roost, they grasp that tight and hold it fast till 

 morning. But to birds that do not perch this 

 mechanism is only an encumbrance, so many of 

 them, like the plovers, abolish the hind toe entirely, 



