WAYS OF NATURE 
armor to protect it from its enemies, and it can 
climb the nearest hemlock tree and live on the bark 
all winter. The skunk, too, pays for its terrible 
weapon by dull wits. But think of the wit of the 
much-hunted fox, the much-hunted otter, the much- 
sought beaver! Even the grouse, when often fired 
at, learns, when it is started in the open, to fly with 
a cockscrew motion to avoid the shot. 
Fear, love, and hunger were the agents that de- 
veloped the wits of the lower animals, as they were, 
of course, the prime factors in developing the intel- 
ligence of man. But man has gone on, while the 
animals have stopped at these fundamental wants, 
— the need of safety, of offspring, of food. 
Probably in a state of wild nature birds never 
make mistakes, but where they come in contact with 
our civilization and are confronted by new con- 
ditions, they very naturally make mistakes. For 
instance, their cunning in nest-building sometimes 
deserts them. The art of the bird is to conceal its 
nest both as to position and as to material, but now 
and then it is betrayed into-weaving into its struc- 
ture showy and bizarre bits of this or that, which 
give its secret away, and which seem to violate all the 
traditions of its kind. I have the picture of a robin’s 
nest before me, upon the outside of which are stuck 
a muslin flower, a leaf from a small calendar, and a 
photograph of a local celebrity. A more incongruous 
use of material in bird architecture it would be 
4 
