THINGS TO HEAR THIS FALL 93 



In the far western mountains he has a cousin 

 called the Douglas squirrel ; and Mr. John Muir calls 

 him " the brightest of all the squirrels I have ever 

 seen, a hot spark of life, making every tree tingle with 

 his prickly toes, a condensed nugget of fresh moun- 

 tain vigor and valor, as free from disease as a sun- 

 beam. How he scolds, and what faces he makes, all 

 eyes, teeth, and whiskers ! " 



You must hear him this fall and take your scold- 

 ing, whether you deserve it or not. 



VIII 



You ought to hear in the cedars, pines, or spruces 

 the small thin cheep f cheep, cheep of the chickadees 

 or the kinglets. You must take a quiet day on the 

 very edge of winter and, in some sunny dip or glade, 

 hear them as they feed and flit 

 about you. They speak in a lan- 

 guage different from that 

 of the crow and the jay. 

 This tiny talk of the king- 

 let is all friendly and 

 cheerful and personal 

 and confidential, as if 

 you were one of the party and 

 liked spiders' eggs and sunshine and did n't care a 

 snap for the coming winter ! In all the vast gray 

 out of doors what bits of winged bravery, what 

 crumbs of feathered courage, they seem! One is 



