90 A BIRD'S-NEST EUNTER. 



all conspire to render it inconspicuous. It 

 is an interesting question whether the owner 

 herself appreciates this, or has merely in- 

 herited the fashion, without thought of the 

 reasons for it. The latter supposition, I 

 reluctantly confess, looks to me the more 

 probable. It must often be true of other 

 animals, as it is of men, that they build 

 better than they know. Their wisdom is 

 not their own, but belongs to a power back 

 of them, a power which works, if you 

 will, in accordance with what we designate 

 as the law of natural selection, and which, 

 so to speak, enlightens the race rather than 

 the individual. 



After all, it is the ground birds that puz- 

 zle the human oologist. Crossing a brook, 

 I saw what I regarded as almost infallible 

 signs that a pair of Maryland yellow-throats 

 had begun to build beside it. Unless I was 

 entirely at fault, the nest must be within a 

 certain two or three square yards, and I de- 

 voted half an hour, more or less, to ran- 

 sacking the grass and bushes, till I thought 

 every inch of the ground had been gone 

 over ; but all to no purpose. Continuing 

 my walk, I noticed after a while that the 



