THE SECRET OF APPRECIATION. IPA 
from every eyelash, ask you what you are about, 
what you do when you are at home, whether you 
have just come from the hospital that you look so 
pale, and, having decided that you are a harmless 
monomaniac, to say the worst, go about their play- 
ful toil of capturing insects, apparently unmindful 
of your presence. But when your heart is jolly and 
full of nature love, all these simple facts, proving the 
large diversity of temperament in bird-land’s deni- 
zens, are a source of joy to you; you note them, are 
glad on account of them, though you scarcely know 
why. 
In a quiet retreat just beyond a steep-graded rail- 
way-track the black-throated green warblers were 
very abundant and unusually rollicksome. It was 
strange how they could dash about in the thorn-trees 
without impaling themselves on the terrible spears. 
One little fellow swung out of a tree after a miller, 
which dropped upon a fence-post near by. Why 
did the natty bird act so queerly? He danced about 
on the top of the post, tried to pick up something, 
but was baffled in all his efforts; then he scudded 
around the post a few inches below the top like a 
nuthatch, uttering his harsh little chirp. At length 
I stepped up, determined to solve the enigma. 
There was the solution; the miller had wriggled into 
a deep hole in the post, so that the bird could not 
reach it. With a slender stick I drew it out of its 
hiding-place, and placed it on the top of the post ; 
but whether the bird ever went back and profited by 
my well-meant helpfulness I do not know. Begging 
