The Brown Creepers 
the little claws had carried him up to the top of tree Number One, he 
fluttered and spilled through the air until he pulled up somehow, with 
heart beating fiercely, 
at the base and on the 
bark of tree Number 
Two. Since then he has 
climbed an almost 
infinity of trees (but I 
dare say he has kept 
count). Summers and 
winters have gone over 
his head, but never a 
waking hour in which he 
has not climbed and 
tumbled in this worse 
than Sysiphaean task of 
gleaning nits and eggs 
and grubs from the 
never-ending bark. 
Why, it gets upon the 
nerves! I pray you 
think, has not this ani- 
mate brown spot 
traveled more relative 
miles of ridgy brown 
bark in his wee lifetime 
than ever mariner on 
billowy sea! Work, 
work, work! With the 
industry of an Oriental 
he seeks to shame the 
rollicking caprice of 
Chickadee, and to be a 
“living example” to such 
spendthrifts as Goldi- 
kins, the Kinglet. 
But wait! I am not 
sure. Could anyone 
live in these majestic 
forests, could anyone 
breathe this incense of 
perpetual balsam, could 
Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
NEST OF CALIFORNIA CREEPER IN DEAD OAK TREE 
THE NEST APPEARS UNDER THE BARK-SCALE AT THE RIGHT, AND THE MARVEL IS HOW 
IT MAINTAINS ITS POSITION 
