ApfttL 4, 190:3.] 
began to notice that eacli morning the pyramid was re- 
formed, tlie scattered sticks collected and placed 
methodically. As tlie wood was used the pyramid grew 
smaller and smallerj but each morning all the scattered 
sticks, except some that became wedged and fastened in 
the larger and heavier wood, would be found replaced 
upon the apex of the diminishing pile. When the wood 
had been about half removed I began to get occasional 
glimpses of the rats. When I removed sticks they dodged 
in and out of the pile, as though they would defend their 
cnstle to the extent of their power. 
The wood was never entirely removed, and that which 
remained was kept in a fairly shaped pyramid until it was 
not more than three feet in diameter. The rats, of which 
I had never seen more than two, became so tame that 
they would remain in sight on the sills near their house 
within an arm's length of me at times. Later in the 
season the mistress of the p3rramid appeared upon one of 
the sills in a very domestic predicament. She was 
sprawled at full length while progeny to the number of 
tAVO were intently engaged in the instinctive business of 
infantile acquisition. After this I frequently fed her 
upon bits of bread and grain. 
I now began to miss some of my portable property. 
Files, small chisels, nails, measuring sticks, patterns, 
pieces of leather and such articles would disappear from 
my work-bench. These from time to time I would find 
mixed in with the sticks in the building material used 
by the rats. Since, I am informed, this is one of the traits 
of the animal. They are so excessively industrious that 
they annex almost anything they can carry or drag away, 
with vei-y indifferent ideas of property rights or owner- 
ship. They are partial to bright and glittering things, 
such as bits of glass, tin and metal. They would doubt- 
less acquire and hoard money with almost trust-like 
perspicuity ^nd acumen if they were not so much addicted 
to twigs and kindling wood. 
That they would soon practice civilized propensities 
there is little doubt, if they lived in more centralized 
communities. A neighbor, Avho resided in this region for 
about forty j^ears, was handicapped in his endeavors to 
get along by a peculiar inability to keep his family sup- 
plied with small articles, such as tableware, thimbles, 
scissors, corkscrews, jackknives, hairpins, collar buttons, 
and small coins. 
After a quarter of a century he had occasion to take up 
a ground floor in his house. Under it he found the nest 
of wood rats, and that nest was a wonder. If the collec- 
tion of trinkets it contained had not been so tarnished 
with corrosion and rust he might have set up in business 
with a variety store of no mean proportions. Thousands 
of the small articles of every day use, for which he had 
paid his money, searched and worried for and about 
when they had disappeared, he found hoarded up by the 
wood rats, many of the things having lain between the 
ground and the floor under his feet for two or three de- 
cades. The articles were evidently considered more orna- 
mental than serviceable by the rats, for they were used 
mainly for the decoration of the pyramid of sticks and 
bones, their domicile. Ransacker. 
SwASTA Mountains, Cal., March. 
Some Queer Pets* 
An obscure naturalist is C. F. Miller, of Main street. 
East Orange. His interest runs to the class reptilia, and 
within eighteen months he has taken up photography as 
an adjunct to his studies, and has made some extraor- 
dinary successes in getting portraits of his restless pets 
indoors and out. Mr. Miller is a newsdealer, whose busi- 
ness gives him little time afield, but he his not so chained 
to business that he is unable to make his escape to the 
Watchung mountains back of Orange at intervals, and he 
makes good use of his infrequent opportunities. Nothing 
seems to escape his eyes nor too insignificant to engross 
his attention. The opening of a bud, the emergence of a 
dragon fly from the larva, the fight between a wasp and a 
spider, and a thousand other incidents of the life of lower 
creatures are objects of study for him; but his favorite 
theme seems to be collecting queer pets and studying them 
at home. Mr. Miller is an enthusiast upon the subject of 
snakes, and invariably has at least a dozen of the harm- 
less kinds comfortably quartered in cages in one room of 
his house, beside keeping up a fine fresh water aquarium 
and little domiciles for toads, frogs and turtles. He has 
COMMON TREE TOAD. 
(Hyla versicolor.) 
photographed all of his peculiar pets, and it is easy for 
the amateur photographer to understand what an amount 
of patience and impatience enters into the task of catching 
two toads talking or gazing lovingly into each other's 
eyes. Just as the exposure is made one of the toads blinks 
.11 id the other starts a game of leap frog. Then a plate is 
spoiled and another must be made ready. There is no use 
of cuss words, for the toads do not understand rough 
language any better than they do soft words. Mr. Miller 
has had his troubles between the shutter and the back- 
ground, when trj'ing to reduce a plump toad to the flat 
surface of a sensitized plate, and the difficulty was dupli- 
cated when he essayed to picture the two toads. Another 
FOREST AND _ STREAM. 
of his pets the common tree toad (Hyla versicolor), was 
a better sitter, and never batted an eye when the exposure 
was made. His pose was just natural, though the ap- 
proach of a fly might have made a lightning change in it. 
His tree toad has been in captivity for a little more than 
a year,_ and has the freedom of the room, with a little tank 
to retire into when dry. It is interesting to see him 
spring from the window sill and stick to the glass pane as 
he nails a fly with his glutinous tongue. When his 
THE LOVERS. 
owner's hand is extended, he will release his hold and 
drop upon it, or will jump from the table or shelf upon 
Mr. Miller's shoulder or hand when called. 
Another pet less tractable is a young snapping turtle 
four inches long, which is suspicious of all efforts toward 
PINE SNAKE. 
(Pityophis melanoleucus.) 
Ocean County, N. J. Length 62 inches. 
domestication. Kindness is wasted upon this creature, 
but he has made a fairly good subject for the camera. 
The snapping turtle has but one friend in Mr. Miller's 
collection, and this one is a watersnake thirty inches in 
length, which is as tame as a kitten, and seems fond of 
being caressed by Mr. Miller or his children. The latest 
addition to the collection is a pine snake {Pityophis 
melanoleucus) five feet two inches in length, and fresh 
from the pine lands of Ocean county. This reptile is one 
COMMON WATER SNAKE. 
(Tropidonotus sipedon.) 
of the most docile of our harmless serpents, and easily 
adapts itself to domestic life. Mr. Miller's specimen is a 
beauty, and it is so tame that his eighteen-months'-old 
baby "Bubs" plays with it whenever he can and cries for 
It when it is refused him. Mr. Miller has made several 
most successful photographs of this snake in conjunction 
with the baby, and in the hands of his eight-year-old 
daughter, Fanny. One of his best pictures of this reptile 
is shown here. It was taken indoors with an exposure of 
slightly over one second, and the result is remarkable, 
because the snake was almost constantly gliding over the 
branch, and was caught in a lucky interval. The picture 
was taken upon the fourth day after the pine snake was 
captured, and it was then so tame that it had no fear of 
man, and seemed pleased to be handled. 
Harrimac 
"This, I suppose," said the visitor, "is the gun your 
great-grandfather carried through the Revolution." 
"Most assuredly not," haughtily replied Cadleigh 
Rich. "That was his gun, but his man carried it for 
him, of course." — Philadelphia Press. 
All communications intended for Forest and Steeam should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
New York, and not to any individual connected with the paper. 
Birds' 'Nests. 
The pleasures of the country boy may lack the excite- 
ment of those of the city boy, but they are none the less 
real, and indeed, in the long run, have a decided ad- 
vantage, for they enrich and enlarge the mind in a way 
the other pleasures never do. This comes from being in 
contact with nature, which, after all, is the great teacher. 
Among the pleasures of the country boy that of bird- 
nesting is certainly one of the grealtsl. 1 sliall not stop 
to inquire whether his conduct while engaged hi ibis {pur- 
suit is always strictly humane or ethical; but 1 may say 
this much, that it will contrast favorably with the conduct 
of certain persons who have reached years of discretion. 
Let a healthy boy loose among the fields and woods on 
a fine day in May or June, and what a picture of activity 
and happiness he presents! How he rushes hither and 
thither with sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks — now 
chasing a butterfly and again stalking a bee — ^now rolling 
down a hillside and again basking in the sun; now, like 
Narcissus, gazing in the brook, and again, like Echo, mak- 
ing the woods and dells resound. But for the most part 
he is bent upon one thing, and that is the quest of that 
object of irresistible fascination to the boyish mind — 
the bird's nest. 
It is wonderful to think of the risks a boy will run and 
the discomfort and pain he will patiently endure for the 
pleasure of even gazing upon a little arrangement of 
moss or fibres and hair or feathers. What trees he will 
climb— what rugged heights he will scale—what dense 
thorny thickets he will penetrate— what treacherous 
marshes he will wade through ! But he never comes to 
grief, or hardly ever. And when he grows up he looks 
back on those early adventures with a peculiar fondness, 
and the bird's nest, though divested of its fascination, still 
remains for him an object of interest. To the hosts of 
such boys, both young and old, a book which has lately 
been published will be especially welcome. It is entitled, 
'Birds' Nests" (Fred. A. Stokes & Co., New York). The 
author, Mr. Chas. Dixon, is an English ornithologist and 
a very learned one it may be said. The arrangement of 
his work is taxonomic or classified. First we have a 
chapter on "Nestless Birds and Annexers;" then one on 
tlie "Crudest Nest Forms;" then one on "Open Nests;" 
then one on "Domed or Roofed Nests," and finally one oil 
"Pendulous Nests." 
_ Does a bird build merely for utilitarian purposes, or, 
in other words, merely to provide a safe procreant cradle, 
without any regard to beauty? Our author says yes. But 
this is, at least, open to question. 
Now, there is no doubt that the ajsthctic sense is highly 
developed among birds, as witness their songs and 
plumage (which latter, of course, is but an expression 
of the inward sense). There is equally no doubt that the 
desire for the safety of their young would overcome this 
if necessary. But is it quite necessary? Is it not possi- 
ble for a bird to build a nest which shall be safe as far 
as possible and at the same time more or less beautiful? 
Certainly the care with which many birds' nests are made 
would seem to warrant an afErmative answer to this 
question. 
In regard to whether birds act purely from in- 
stinct or reason in building their nests, Mr. Dixon is most 
mteresting. He flouts the instinct theory, and I believe 
quite justly. To maintain his position he cites the case 
of two chaffinches, a male and female, which, while 
quite young, were carried to New Zealand and there en- 
larged. Now the chaffinch (Friiigilla Calebs) builds one 
of the most careful and beautiful nests of those knoAvn to 
the ornithologist. Did the birds enlarged in New Zealand 
emulate the family art? Not a bit of it. What they built 
was a monstrosity, more like the cradle of a hang-nest 
than the beautiful little lichen-covered cup peculiar to the 
British Isles. Birds are educated just like other living 
things— educated to hunt for food— educated to sing, and 
educated to build after a certain manner. Of course the 
mental bias of species is there, but that is a very different 
thmg from pure instinct, as popularly understood. 
Perhaps there is no question so interesting to the 
ornithologist as that regarding the parasitic habit of cer- 
tain birds. Why does the cuckoo in England or the. cow- 
bird m America lay its eggs in another bird's nest? The 
habit is certainly very old, so it cannot be said that the 
modern fashionable disinclination to be burdened with the 
care of a family has anything to do with it. And yet this 
may be the very reason, and the cuckoo and cowbird may 
have set the fashion for society. However, for a full dis- 
cussion of the matter, I must refer the reader to Mr. 
Dixon's pages. 
After disposing of these introductory matters, our 
author sets about to describe in detail some thousands of 
nests. I am sure that the descriptions of as many build- 
ings, even the most ornate or singular, would not be half 
so interesting, nor, indeed, one-twentieth part. It is all 
very well to have a building before one to gaze on, but, 
as a general rule, architectural descriptions are a bore. 
How different with the simple little bird's nest! For 
hours we read of how a few twigs, or a handful of dried 
roots and grasses, or a bunch of moss, with some hair or 
feathers or wool are variously arranged, and do not tire. 
Why IS this? Perhaps it is because what is simple and 
natural has an abiding charm for the human mind. Mr. 
Dixon makes it clear, of course, that the dominant 
laea in the construction of a nest is generally conceal- 
ment and always protection to the future nestlings. In 
harmony with this idea, one bird will lay its eggs 'among 
the pebbles on a beach (from which they can hardly be 
distinguished); another will bore a hole in the sand; 
another will drill its way into a tree; another (like the 
chaffinch, before mentioned), will build a nest in a tree 
which, to the casual eye, looks no more than an excres- 
cence on the bark; another will take up its abode in the 
neighborhood pi a wasp's nest, so that in case of a visit 
from its enemies the hornets may be stirred up, doubtless 
with good effect; another will suspend its nest from a 
slim branch overhanging a stream, where no snake or 
monkey will dare venture; anpther will actually -build a ' 
floating nest, and so on. It is noted by iMr. Dixon in 
this connection that no species or variety is slavishly 
wedded to one unvarying type of nest, but modifies it to 
suit circumstances or' environment. And this fact goes 
to sustain the theory of reason as against that of in- 
stinct. 
