NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
warbler’s nest to leave it unguarded. As if 
they knew their deeds were evil, their every 
look and act told of knavery, quite different 
from their usual gallant bearing. That night 
I came upon them sleeping in a bunch in the 
same tree, and felt certain that with the 
morning light there would be four less baby 
yellow-birds in the world. And so it 1s, 
that while I can almost hate the jays for 
their faults, I entirely love them for their 
beautiful coloring and their one virtue of 
family love. How much better are we than 
they? Or, rather, are we not much worse, 
since we kill for love of killing? Too often 
we have not even the blue jay’s one virtue 
of loyalty to our own. 
190 
