CURIOUS BABIES. 179 



turn around just yet. Truly it is good to be 

 here ; to rest from the world of conventionality ; 

 to get into harmony with nature ; to steep our 

 souls in the wildness, the freshness, and the 

 eternal youth of the growing world about us. 



But we are seeking birds ; we must control 

 our enthusiasm and listen. Now we become 

 aware of low, sharp, insect-like cries about us. 

 They seem to come from all sides at once ; we 

 find it impossible to locate them, till a sudden 

 chorus of loud and excited " smacks " directs 

 our attention to the tree over our heads, and 

 our eyes fall upon a pair of frantic little fellow- 

 creatures in golden yellow, hopping about on 

 the branches, posturing and gesticulating with 

 vehemence, and addressing their remarks most 

 pointedly to us. 



We have doubtlessly invaded what they con- 

 sider their domain. Those insect-like chirps 

 are the voices of their little folk, probably just 

 out of the nest, brand-new, ignorant, and curious 

 babies, who know no better than to stare at us, 

 and make their comments within reach of our 

 hands. They are not yet trained to know and 

 avoid their greatest enemy, which you may not 

 know, dear reader, that you are, not because 

 you are bloodthirsty, but because you belong to 

 a bloodthirsty race. 



Now one of the babies comes in sight, in soft 



