The Elegance and 
Horror of Bird Parasites. 
(95) 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
Patterned pot-like eggs of the Pheasant’s Parasite, magnified ; each 
being naturally one-twentieth of an inch long. 
markable history. If the nests of hens be shaken 
over sheets of white paper, there will almost cer¬ 
tainly appear some nimble white maggots, wrig¬ 
gling, as though in convulsions, among the 
debris. They are shiny-white, have brown, horny 
heads, and range in size, according to age, from 
one-sixth of an inch downwards. These are the 
forerunners of the hen’s fleas, and when they or 
the latter are detected it must be remembered that 
they do not attack man ; nor do man’s fleas inter¬ 
fere with fowls, although their life-histories are 
similar. When magnified, one of these maggots 
is shown to greatly resemble a small caterpillar, 
and this similarity is further accentuated because 
it will, in ten days or so after its birth from an 
oval egg, become a helpless chrysalis, like a seed 
of some kind. The flea itself emerges from the 
chrysalis at the termination of a further period of 
one, two, or even three weeks, according to 
favourable or unfavourable environment. As 
maggots they do not interfere with the birds, and 
this dissociation might mislead even the acutest 
obseivers. But the fleas themselves are often 
very troublesome, and even the exercise of per¬ 
petual cleanliness will not keep one’s pets free 
from them if careless neighbours are anywhere 
in the vicinity. 
Our third type is a very common object on 
Pigeons, and certainly it is hideous enough to 
almost give one the shudders. Actually biting 
the poor birds subjected to its influence they 
cause sufficient torment to lead to death if not 
restricted by proper treatment. Undoubtedly 
the extreme result is not a direct, effect of their 
assault, but happens through such badly infested 
birds becoming mopish and languid, which 
passive condition then renders them easy prey to 
interior diseases. The Pigeon parasite holds on 
tight to the fluff of its host by means of a pecu¬ 
liar “ thumb-and-finger ” joint disposed as 
claws. These features are clearly explained in 
the accompanying side circles. In the first the 
joints are spread apart. When the larger one is 
closed upon its less movable companion, as shown 
in the second circle, with an intervening thread of 
feather, it would require very great force to re¬ 
move the insect, especially as there are six of 
these useful pieces of apparatus. The obnoxious 
lice are at all times of their life of one very little 
varying form, and do not undergo either trans¬ 
formation or period of quietude. 
I have dealt at very great length, I fear, with 
the hideous side of my subject. This phase has 
been sufficiently objectionable to deter even many 
entomologists from pursuing the study of para¬ 
sitism. Yet with what marvellous revelations 
such inquiry can furnish us ! Many readers will, 
I am sure, feel ready to doubt the accuracy of my 
survey, but it is true in every part Iis it not 
astounding that the most debased—the vilest pos¬ 
sible—kind of life can be responsible for the exist¬ 
ence of genuine beauty? Nearly all the eggs of 
parasites, including the bed-bug, and the wretched 
things which are associated chiefly with tramps 
and outcasts, differ remarkably from the usual 
idea of eggs. They are, in point of fact, little 
pots or vases provided with necks into, or upon, 
which fit perfect lids. Their variety of shape and 
detail of ornamentation are equally astonishing; 
no two kinds being exactly alike, although all 
follow a general plan of design. Naturally, all 
these objects are very small; but note what their 
magnification reveals. I have chosen for . illus¬ 
tration three of the prettiest specimens from my 
collection. In all instances they are firmly glued 
to the feathers of the bird, as far out of sight as 
possible. 
The eggs of the Pheasant’s parasite, though 
the real length of each is only about one-twentieth 
of an inch, are neat vases with a surface pattern, 
which, while it is hexagonal, displays circular 
points or bosses. Each is capped by a lid-like 
part, from which extends a “ tail ”—if I may so 
describe it. 
That the insects themselves do not appreciate 
the elegance of their own eggs is noticeable from 
the widespread adoption of a strange practice, 
which, although concealing one style of beauty, 
creates another. I give a picture of the eggs of 
the parasite of the Japanese Turkey. In reality 
