NEW GLEANINGS IN OLD FIELDS 



up for the deficiency — what was the substitute. 

 But I could not find out. 



Nearly every cuckoo's nest I have happened to 

 find has been on a thorn-bush. Why do they choose 

 this tree? What special enemy are they on their 

 guard against? Our cuckoos evidently lay their eggs 

 at longer intervals than the other birds. In the 

 present case one of the young was clearly several 

 days older than its fellows. This fact, with the rude 

 skeleton of a nest, suggests some reminiscence of 

 the habits of the European cuckoo, a parasitical 

 bird. 



The wild life around one becomes interesting the 

 moment one gets into the current of it and sees its 

 characteristics and by-play. The coons that come 

 down off the mountain into my orchard for apples 

 on the chill November nights; the fox that prowls 

 about near me and wakens me by his mid, vulpine 

 squall at two o'clock in the morning; the woodchucks 

 burrowing in my meadows and eating and tangling 

 my clover, and showing sudden terror when they 

 spy me peeping over the stone wall or coming with 

 my rifle; the chipmunk leaving a mound of freshly 

 dug earth conspicuous by the roadside, while his 

 entrance to his den is deftly concealed under the 

 grass or strawberry-vines a few yards away; the red 

 squirrel spinning along the stone wall, his move- 

 ments apparently controlled by the electric-like 

 waves of energy that run along his tail and impart 



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