KINGLETS. 141 



How do they look ? Well, they are fluffy little 

 things with grayish olive coats and whitish vests 

 that protect them as they flit about the leaves as 

 perfectly as the vireo's suits. That is the way I 

 thought of them when I had only a vague idea 

 that one of the family had a golden crest, and the 

 other wore a ruby crown. But one fall, when 

 they came back to the old thorn-apple by the 

 garden, I thought I would learn to know the 

 cousins apart. 



That morning one little fellow had the tree all 

 to himself. And what a queer gnome he was ! A 

 fat ball of feathers, stilted up on long, wiry legs, 

 with eyes that, though set oddly enough far back 

 from his bill, were yet so near together they seemed 

 to prevent his seeing straight ahead. He would 

 flash one eye on me, and then jerk himself round 

 and flash the other, scolding in the funniest way 

 with his fine chatter. I could not see that he had 

 any crown at all, and so was as much puzzled as 

 ever to decide which kinglet he was. 



He and his friends were here by themselves 

 about two weeks, working industriously all the 

 while dear little brownies to clear our moun- 

 tain ashes and apple-trees of insects before leaving 

 us. I came to know them as far off as I could 

 see them by their restless bluebird way of lifting 

 their wings and twinkling them in the air as they 

 hunted through the branches. And how they did 

 hunt ! As the kinglets live among the leaves, 



