ion was indeed a rare treat. It is 

 Darwin who has said that he had come 

 to the conclusion that the wildness of 

 of hirds with regard to man is a particu- 

 lar instinct directed against him, and 

 not dependent on any general degree of 

 caution arising from other sources of 

 danger. Birds in general, however, have 

 had reason to become timid from their 

 experience of the human biped, and hold 

 with Eben Holden that "Men are the 

 most terrible of all critters, an' the 

 meanest. They're the only critters that 

 kill fer fun," and it has become instinc- 

 tive for them to act accordingly. 



However, we had not yet arrived at 

 the end of our experience with the socia- 

 ble bird world, for it seemed that we were 

 to carry a full cargo of stowaways, for 

 the next arrivals were six or seven 

 j uncos savoring of frost and wintr} 

 weather, notwithstanding the heat of the 

 autumnal sun. Miss Merriam has quaint- 

 ly styled these busy little birds : "Gray 

 robed monks and nuns," though their 

 character does not cleverly carry out that 

 conception, for they are a pugnacious 

 lot of feathers and blood, and there were 

 pitch battles going on at every hatch 

 corner, the j uncos playing the part of 

 the aggressor every time, turning and 

 conspicuously flaunting their stylish 

 white tail markings in the face of their 

 ODOonents. The next advent was that of 

 a tiny house wren, who seemed to have 

 had a good deal of his natural belliger- 

 ency blown out of him, and was content 

 to make a peaceful breakfast on the Can- 

 ada soldiers that were swarming about. 

 Wrens are noticeable for the interest 

 that they take in human belongings, and 

 love to make their home among them. At 

 Marquette I was shown a nest built in 

 an overshoe inadvertently left in the 

 crotch of an apple tree, and which, I am 

 glad to report, the owner left undisturbed 

 when she learned by whom it was pre- 

 empted. I thought of our little stowaway 

 when I saw the nest and wondered how 

 much he could have told me of its con- 

 struction. Some one has mentioned a 

 nest built in an old coat sleeve, and Au- 

 dubon tells us of a pair that nested in 

 his parlor, paying him rent in song 

 music. The wren has also received 

 much ''honorable mention" in history, 

 Aristotle being the first, I believe, to call 



him the King of Birds, possibly because 

 of the legend that tells us that to gain 

 his sovereignty in a trial of flight he con- 

 cealed himself on the back of an eagle 

 who was one of the contestants, and 

 after that bird of mighty wing power 

 had reached his limit the wren, arising 

 from his seat among the eagle's feathers, 

 easily flew much higher, thus gaining the 

 race and title. Perhaps not the first time 

 that high places have been arrived at 

 through duplicity. But, in justice to his 

 species, mention should be made of the 

 myth that asserts that in ye golden time 

 the wren was the only bird brave enough 

 to enter heaven and bring down fire to 

 earth for the benefit of the mortals. In 

 this philanthropical work he scorched off 

 his feathers, so the other birds made a 

 donation party and each contributed some 

 spare feathers to the singed benefactor 

 (but we notice that their generosity, like 

 that of some others, was confined to do- 

 nating their plainest apparel), all but the 

 owl, who refused to part with a single 

 quill, but who for his stinginess was at 

 once ostracised from good society, and 

 forced to make his appearance only after 

 nightfall, when the "best people" were 

 not in evidence. 



Of the two other members of the war- 

 bler family, who traveled north with us 

 singly and alone, one was a Blackburnian 

 warbler, silent and dull of plumage as 

 befitted the season, and the other a dainty 

 black-throated blue warbler, one of the 

 most dressy and gentlemanly appearing 

 birds of the warbler species. In his steely 

 blue coat, black stock and evening vest 

 and wide expanse of white shirt front, 

 he looks as though fully attired for a 

 swell reception. His two white wing 

 patches closely resemble handkerchief? 

 peeping from side pockets, completing 

 the illusion. He was rather more re- 

 .served in his movements than the gang 

 of noisy associates, and picked daintily 

 at the flies as befits well-bred superiority. 

 But he, like the rest, showed no appar- 

 ent distrust of us, neither did some newly 

 arrived white-throated sparrows, who 

 joined in the general scramble for in- 

 sects. But not now do we hear their 

 cheerful 'T-have-got-plenty-to-eat-but- 

 no-che-eze," as Dr. Brewer interprets 

 their song. I am sure that they could 

 have had cheese or anything else they 



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