LEAF AND TENDRIL 



comes leaky. The trap-door spider can build a door 

 to her den, because this instinct is one of her spe- 

 cial equipments, and is necessary to her well-being. 

 To the woodpecker such a door is not a necessity. 

 There are but few things we could teach the 

 animals in their own proper sphere. We could 

 give them hints when they are confronted by new 

 problems, as in the case of the beaver above re- 

 ferred to, but in the ordinary course of nature these 

 new problems rarely turn up. We could teach the 

 beaver a little more system in the use of his mate- 

 rial, but this would be of slight value to him; his 

 dam, made very much as a flood makes a dam of 

 driftwood and mud, answers his purpose. Could 

 we teach the birds where to find a milder clime, or 

 the dog how to find his way home, or the horse 

 how to find water in the desert, or the muskrat 

 or the beaver how to plan and construct houses 

 better suited to their purposes ? Could we teach the 

 birds how better to hide their nests ? Do the conies 

 amid the rocks, that cure their hay before storing 

 it up for winter use, need to take counsel of us ? or 

 the timid hare that sleeps with its eyes open, or the 

 sluggish turtle that covers her eggs in the warm 

 sand? Can we instruct the honey-bee in her own 

 arts, or the ant in hers ? The spider does not need 

 to learn of us how to weave a net, nor the leaf-roll- 

 ing insect to be taught the use of stitches. I do not 

 know that we first learned the art of paper-making 

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