l
of it that lies above the level of the head had been removed, leaving
no trace. No one who looks at the little hole could fail to see that it
is an ear, highly organized--an ear for music; at least, I found it so
among the finches I have examined; I know not if a simpler structure is
evident in the ear of a rook or a peacock.

"The feathers are so planted round a bird's ears, that however ruffled
or wet, they can't get in--and possibly they conduct sound. Birds have
no need of ears with a movable cowl over them, to turn and twist for
the catching of stray sounds, as foxes have, and hares, and other
four-footed things; for a bird can turn his whole head so as to put his
ear wherever he pleases in the twinkling of an eye; and he has too many
resources, whatever bird he may be, of voice and gesture, to need any
power of ear-cocking to welcome his friends, or ear-flattening to
menace his foes.

"The long and the short of it is, that we may as well take the trouble
first to look for, and then to look at, a bird's ear--having first made
the bird like us and trust us so much, that he won't mind a human
breath upon his cheek, but will let us see behind the veil, into the
doorless corridor that lets music into the bird-soul."

154. Next; the physician (over whom, to get the letter out of him, I
had to use the authority of a more than ordinarily imperious patient)
says,--

"Now for the grebes lowering themselves in water, (which Lucy said I
was to tell you about). The way in which they manage it, I believe to
be this. Most birds have under their skins great air-passages which
open into the lungs, and which, when the bird is moving quickly, and
consequently devouring a great deal of air, do, to a certain extent,
the work of supplementary lungs. They also lessen the bird's specific
gravity, which must be of some help in flying. And in the gannet, which
drops into the sea from a great height after fish, these air-bags
lessen the shock on striking the water. Now the grebes (and all
diving-birds) which can swim high up out of water when the air-cushions
are full, and so feel very little the cold of the water beneath them,
breathe out all spare air, and sink almost out of sight when they wish
to be less conspicuous;--just as a balloon sinks when part of the gas
is let out. And I have often watched the common divers and cormorants
too, when frightened, swimming about with only head and neck out of
water, and so looking more like