r as is
the nuthatch, which may be called the arboreal skater _par excellence_.
The warbler does not go scuttling straight down a vertical bole or
branch as the nuthatch does, but swings his lithe body from side to
side, as if he did not loosen the hold of both feet simultaneously but
alternately. Besides, both in ascending and descending he must have
more frequent recourse to his wings to tide him over the difficult
places. While the nuthatch can glide over the smoothest and hardest
bark, and even descend the wall of a brick house, his sharp claws
taking a firm grip on the edges of the bricks, the warbler is not quite
so much of a gymnast, for when he strikes a difficult spot in his
promenade ground, he flies or flits over it to the next protuberance
which his claws can hold. He has a decided advantage, however, over
all his warbler kin, for he is not only gifted with the creeping
talent, but is also just as dexterous as they in perching on a
horizontal twig.

The little bird known as the brown creeper belongs to a different
avicular family entirely, but in one respect he is like the
black-and-white warbler--that is, he scales the trunks and branches of
the trees. There, however, the resemblance ceases, for the creeper
rarely goes head downward, evidently thinking that the proper position
for a bird's head is pointing toward the sky, not toward the ground.
Besides, he seldom, if ever, sits crosswise on a perch; no, he is an
inveterate creeper. My study of him proves that he does not hold his
feet directly under his breast, but spreads them out well toward either
side, knowing instinctively how to make a broad enough base to enable
him to preserve his center of gravity.

Like the woodpecker, he uses his stiff tail as a brace; nor does he go
zigzagging up his wall after the manner of the creeping warbler, but
hitches along in a direct line--unless, of course, a tidbit attracts
him to one side--proving that he is a true creeper, one to the manner
born. However, the warbler has one advantage--he is able to perch with
perfect security on a twig, an accomplishment that has not yet been
attained by his little brown cousin. How cunningly the creeper peeps
into the crannies of the bark as he plies his trade, thrusts his long,
curved beak into the tiny holes and crevices, and draws out a worm or a
grub, which the next moment goes twinkling down his throat! His
economic value to the farmer and the fruit grower cannot be