lectured here Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, on "Colours of Animals," "Mimicry," and " Oceanic Islands," and every day had drives or excursions about the country or to Mr. Talbot's zoological farm. On the Sunday morning after my arrival Mr. Talbot called in a two-horsed buggy to take me to his farm; two other gentlemen in another; Judge Wakefield, Miss W. (the lady who painted flowers), and two children in a third. We first went to a bluff near the town to see a thick bed of loess resting on glacial drift, and this on Cretaceous sandstone. Then up the valley of the great Sioux river, a fine, clear stream, passing another bluff showing a thick bed of obliquely stratified gravel with enclosed pebbles and boulders, and about one hundred and fifty feet of loess over it. We then turned up a thinly wooded valley to Mr. Talbot's farm, about four miles from the city. Here we picnicked in a rather scrubby wood with very little shade, as no leaves were yet out, and it was very hot and dusty; but we had quite a luxurious feast and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, lighting a fire and making tea and coffee to finish with.

We then inspected our host's animals-six fine American bisons, twelve elks, an East Indian zebu, a drove of solidhoofed pigs, a flock of four-horned sheep, hybrids of zebu and cattle, a fine trotting colt, wolves, foxes, rabbits, wild geese, and other aquatic birds, pigeons, rattlesnakes, and other curious birds and reptiles. He has here six thousand acres of land, wooded valleys, and prairie, where, besides keeping all these animals in order to observe their habits, make experiments on their instincts, etc., he carries on a considerable business in growing agricultural seeds of choice qualities, breeding the solid-hoofed hogs, which are said to be superior for fattening purposes, as well as the four-horned sheep, Angora goats, hybrid cattle, etc. He has also patented metallic tags for identifying cattle and other farm stock, and several agricultural implements. These animals are all looked after by youths trained by himself-boys and girls, who are, he finds, as soon as they take an interest in the work, much more trustworthy than any men. He has also a large building for a museum, or rather laboratory, of

experimental zoology. Here he showed me several hundred skins of wild geese, roughly prepared, but every one with numbered labels giving the date, hour, and exact spot where they were each shot, with the direction of their flight, while the contents of the stomach of each is preserved for examination. These have been obtained from various north-western States, and by a close study of them he hopes to trace out the exact course of their migration year by year. He hoped that in time some of his land would be included within the city limits, and would sell for a high price, in which case he would leave the rest as a zoological experimental station to the public. I made some suggestions to him as to experiments in regard to instinct, heredity, and evolution, which were much needed, and he said he would take them in hand when his affairs were more settled.

Sioux City had recently become a centre for agricultural produce, and had a large pork-curing establishment; and, as in many other Western cities, there had been " a great boom in real estate." Land two miles from the town, which was bought three or four years back for ten dollars an acre, is now selling at a hundred and fifty dollars; while in the residential parts of the city plots of one hundred and fifty feet square sell for nine thousand dollars, equal to £1800, or about £3500 per acre, and in the business part of the city twice as much.

One morning Mr. Talbot took me to see the pork-curing establishment, where, during the season, they kill a thousand hogs a day. The animals are collected in pens close to the building, with a gate opening to an inclined pathway of planks up to the top of the building. They walk up this of their own accord in a continuous procession, and at the top are caught up one after another by a chain round their hind legs, and swung on to the men who kill, scald, scrape, and cut them up; all the separate parts going through the several stages of cleaning and curing till the result is bacon, hams, barrels of pork, black puddings, sausages, and bristles, while the whole of the refuse is dried and ground up into a valuable manure. The ingenuity of the whole process is

undeniable; but to go through it all, as I was obliged to do, along narrow planks and ladders slippery with blood and water, and in the warm, close, reeking atmosphere, was utterly disgusting. My friend was, however, quite amazed at my feeling anything but admiration of the whole establishment, which was considered one of the sights and glories of the city.

On coming out I was told something that interested me more than the wholesale pork factory had done. A gentleman was standing at the door of an office close by, and in the course of conversation with him, the subject of tornadoes came up, in reference to one that had done some damage there two years before. There was a very large iron oil reservoir a few yards from the office, something like the largest-sized cylindrical steam boilers, supported on a strong wooden framework. The tornado struck this cylinder, lifted it off its support, and threw it down some yards away. Yet our friend's office and other small wooden buildings close by were absolutely untouched by it. This illustrates a peculiar feature of these storms, which, though sometimes sweeping along the surface and destroying everything in their track for miles, at other times seem to pass overhead, descending occasionally to the surface and then rising again, picking up a house or a tree at intervals. The kind of destruction a tornado often produce is well shown in the photograph of the main street of Sauk Rapids, Minnesota, after the tornado of the preceding year (April 14, 1886). This town is about two hundred miles north of Sioux City.

Leaving Sioux City in the afternoon, with several stoppages and changes I reached Kansas City at six next morning. After breakfasting there, I went on to Lawrence through a pretty country in the valley of the Kansas river, the rich alluvial land still partly covered with wood, and apparently unoccupied. Several camps of emigrants (or migrants) with waggons, etc., were passed. On the sides of the railway there were dots, clumps, and even large patches of the beautiful Phlox divaricata, with brilliant bluish-purple flowers. No other flower was seen, but the trees were just coming out