h showing off in this way to his mate,
who stood on the ground close at hand. In his case the head was lowered
instead of raised, and the general effect was heightened by his
curiously precise gait, which even on ordinary occasions is enough to
provoke a smile.

Not improbably every species of birds has its own code of etiquette;
unwritten, of course, but carefully handed down from father to son, and
faithfully observed. Nor is it cause for wonder if, in our ignorant
eyes, some of these "society manners" look a little ridiculous. Even the
usages of fashionable human circles have not always escaped the laughter
of the profane.

I was standing on the edge of a small thicket, observing a pair of
cuckoos as they made a breakfast out of a nest of tent caterpillars (it
was a feast rather than a common meal; for the caterpillars were
plentiful, and, as I judged, just at their best, being about half
grown), when a couple of scarlet tanagers appeared upon the scene. The
female presently selected a fine strip of cedar bark, and started off
with it, sounding a call to her handsome husband, who at once followed
in her wake. I thought, What a brute, to leave his wife to build the
house! But he, plainly enough, felt that in escorting her back and forth
he was doing all that ought to be expected of any well-bred,
scarlet-coated tanager. And the lady herself, if one might infer
anything from her tone and demeanor, was of the same opinion. I mention
this trifling occurrence, not to put any slight upon _Pyranga rubra_
(who am I, that I should accuse so gentle and well dressed a bird of bad
manners?), but merely as an example of the way in which feathered
politeness varies. In fact, it seems not unlikely that the male tanager
may abstain on principle from taking any active part in constructing the
nest, lest his fiery color should betray its whereabouts. As for his
kindness and loyalty, I only wish I could feel as sure of one half the
human husbands whom I meet.

It would be very ungallant of me, however, to leave my readers to
understand that the female bird is always so unsympathetic as most of
the descriptions thus far given would appear to indicate. In my memory
are several scenes, any one of which, if I could put it on paper as I
saw it, would suffice to correct such an erroneous impression. In one of
these the parties were a pair of chipping sparrows. Never was man so
churlish that his heart would not have been touched with the v