THINGS TO HEAR THIS FALL 93 



In the far western mountains he has a cousin 

 called the Douglas squirrel ; and Mr. John Muir calls 

 him " the brightest of all the squirrels I have ever 

 seen, a hot spark of life, making every tree tingle with 

 his prickly toes, a condensed nugget of fresh moun- 

 tain vigor and valor, as free from disease as a sun- 

 beam. How he scolds, and what faces he makes, all 

 eyes, teeth, and whiskers ! " 



You must hear him this fall and take your scold- 

 ing, whether you deserve it or not. 



VIII 

 You ought to hear in the cedars, pines, or spruces 

 the small thin cheep, cheep, cheep of the chickadees 

 or the kinglets. You must take a quiet day on the 

 very edge of winter and, in some sunny dip or glade, 

 hear them as they feed and flit 

 about you. They speak in a lan- 

 guage different from that 

 of the crow and the jay. 

 This tiny talk of the king- 

 let is all friendly and 

 cheerful and personal 

 and confidential, as if 

 you were one of the party and 

 liked spiders' eggs and sunshine and did n't care a 

 snap for the coming winter ! In all the vast gray 

 out of doors what bits of winged bravery, what 

 crumbs of feathered courage, they seem! One is 



