42 



IN BIRD LAND. 



wish-year, giving one the feeling that at least one 

 brave little heart was not discouraged on account 

 of the dismal moaning of the wintry storm. He 

 is every inch a hero, and I wonder Emerson did 

 not celebrate his praise as well as that of the black- 

 capped chickadee, in verse. The wren is somewhat 

 more of a recluse than most of my winter intimates. 

 He has not been quite as sociable as I should have 

 liked. Whether it was modesty or selfishness that 

 made him a sort of eremite could not be deter- 

 mined. Most of his contemporaries, such as the 

 chickadees, kinglets, nuthatches, and woodpeckers, 

 prefer to go in straggling flocks ; so that, as soon 

 as I see one bird or hear his call, I feel sure that he 

 is simply the sentinel of a bevy of feathered tilters 

 and coasters at my elbow. No, they do not believe 

 in monasteries or nunneries ; they do not believe 

 that it is good for a bird to be alone, whatever may 

 be said of man or woman. Listen to that kinglet, 

 the malapert, hanging head-downward on a spray 

 and making his disclaimer : " No, sir, we birds 

 are sociable beings, as men are, and like to hold 

 commerce with one another. What good would it 

 do to sing so sweetly or tilt so gracefully were 

 there no auditors or spectators to admire our per- 

 formances?" And all his plumed comrades cry, 

 " Aye ! aye ! " by way of emphatic endorsement. 



The division of these tenants of the woods into 

 communities or colonies is a matter of unique 

 interest to the ornithologist. For instance, there 

 seemed to be at least two of these groups, one 



