NEW GLEANINGS IN OLD FIELDS 



arrest the attention. The currents of life everywhere, 

 the lampreys piling up the stones in the creek-bot- 

 tom for a nest, the muskrat in the fall building his 

 aquatic tent with mouthfuls of sedge-grass, excite 

 our interest. In May all the seed-eating and nut- 

 eating creatures are hard put to it to obtain food. 

 The red squirrel comes in front of my door and eats 

 the sterile catkins of the butternut, and they evi- 

 dently help tide him over this season of scarcity. 

 One morning a gray squirrel in his quest for a break- 

 fast invaded the tree. The red squirrel soon spied 

 him and hustled him out of it very spitefully. The 

 gray went undulating along the top of the stone 

 wall, the picture of grace and ease, while the red, 

 with tail kinked, was in hot pursuit. 



To find an interest in natural history one must 

 add something more than the fact, one must see the 

 meaning of the fact. 



I feel no especial interest in the kingbird that 

 alights on the telephone-wire in front of me, but 

 when he climbs high up in the air and picks some 

 invisible insect from out the apparently empty 

 space, and brings it back to his perch, I am inter- 

 ested. It was a characteristic act. The fox is inter- 

 esting for his cunning, the skunk and porcupine 

 for their stupidity. We see in the last two how the 

 weapons of defense which Nature has so liberally 

 bestowed upon them have left no room for the exi- 

 gencies of life to develop their wits. 

 29 



