The other day a distinguished artist friend of mine called upon me with a small bottle containing some whiskey, which by its odour I judged was good, when he first took it from his flask, and in it was what he denominated a “bug.” He told me that he had experienced “one of the most wonderful adventures of his life” in connection with the specimen he put before me, and went on to tell me that during the past summer, while sketching in the mountains, he had discovered one evening, when undressing, a small, dark swelling on his breast. He thought it to be a little abnormal growth on the skin and paid no attention to it. From time to time he noticed it afterwards, when retiring, and found to his considerable alarm that it was gradually growing larger, and evil thoughts of cancer, tumors, and what not, began to float through his mind. Finally, after some two weeks had passed, one evening, as he expressed it, “while fooling with the darned thing it came off” He laid it down on the dressing-case before him and was presently astounded to see it slowly crawling away from the spot. Then a small bottle was sought out, the whiskey flask was brought into requisition, and the “bug” was safely bottled, to be referred to me for an explanation. This proved not difficult to give. The specimen was a well-developed example of Ixodes albipictus, Packard. We had a hearty laugh together, and my friend assured me that he “would know better the next time, and not let such creatures establish such a lengthy abode upon his person.” His adventure recalled to me a letter which I have long had in my possession, intending to publish it, as it is very well written, and adds a touch of humour to the subject. The specimen referred to in the letter is in my collection, and proves to be an example of Ixodes bovis, a very common plague in the south-western part fo this country.