104 THE WILES OF A WARBLER 



would run away if they could," says John 

 Muir. 



It is interesting to see how our little 

 neighbors have learned to understand us. 

 Birds near houses know exactly how to take 

 the average person who goes laughing and 

 talking or hurrying by, seeing nothing and 

 hearing nothing. They go right on about 

 their business, and sing and call and carry 

 on their domestic concerns as if the blind and 

 deaf person down below did not exist. But 

 the individual who goes quietly, stops and 

 looks at them, shows interest in their do- 

 ings that is a new variety and must be 

 watched. They are at once on guard, be- 

 come shy, and try to slip out of sight. 



I had watched and puzzled over affairs in 

 the moss for several days before my doubts 

 were set at rest by the appearance of the 

 rightful lord and master, eager and busy 

 enough to atone for his strange desertion of 

 his family. On my approach to the tree I 

 saw him, an undoubted parula warbler, mak- 

 ing up for lost time by feeding the nestlings 

 industriously. Every few minutes he ap- 

 peared with mouth full of goodies, a tiny 



