226 BIRD PARADISE 



when hungry is to open a few of these cans and 

 appropriate the contents. So far as I know, none 

 of them ever spoil, or if they do, there is always 

 enough left to supply every possible want. Com- 

 mend me to nuthatch as a can opener. With 

 that little bill of his he loosens the cover, and 

 with a dexterous toss of the head throws it off, 

 taking the contents apparently in the very act of 

 opening. The know how of birds often seems to 

 be the outcome of a sort of instinct that works 

 with care and dispatch, even when entirely 

 untrained. 



The hill country brook has a character all its 

 own. Then it has a phase of being which be- 

 longs wholly to the season through which it is 

 passing. I never cross one of the old-timers 

 without tarrying, if I have the time, to pro- 

 pound a few questions. It may sound a little 

 curious to say that I talk to the brook and the 

 brook talks to me. I am getting to the place 

 where I feel, if I do not know, that there is noth- 

 ing dumb in the wide domain of life but he that 

 won't speak. The speech of the brook ripples 

 with good things. It mingles all with laughter. 

 It sings as it runs, and no other thing in nature 



