THE SUMMIT OP THE YEARS 



alike, and the bird could not distinguish between 

 them or concentrate herself upon one spot. The 

 nesting instinct in each case was so strong that the 

 bird had not a particle of sense apart from it. Some- 

 thing impelled it to build, build, and it put down 

 its load of mortar or straws at whichever point it 

 chanced to hit. It was a hit-or-miss game surely. 

 Such incidents give us a glimpse of how absolutely 

 under the dominion of natural impulses animal life 

 is, especially at certain times. The breeding instinct 

 with nearly all creatures becomes a kind of intoxica- 

 tion, a frenzy, and if the bird, with all its cleverness, 

 is ever a fool, it is a fool then. On different occasions 

 I have seen a robin, a bluebird, and a blue jay, in 

 nesting-time, each dashing itself against a window 

 in which it saw the reflection of its own image, think- 

 ing it was demolishing or just going to demolish a 

 rival. Hour after hour, and day after day, the blood- 

 less farce went on, tUl the bird finally desisted, 

 apparently not because it saw it was the dupe of 

 its own jealousy, but from sheer exhaustion. How 

 like blind inanimate Nature such things are! like 

 the winds and the waves in their unintelligent fury. 

 An animal never sees through appearances; things 

 are what they seem to him, and a piece of paper or 

 an old hat by the roadside is a fearsome thing to a 

 nervous horse. Nature has heaped the measure of 

 their caution and fear, that they may be sure to 

 escape their real enemies, and she has heaped the 

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