ience
may interpret for us if it can, but it is the business of every
observer to report truthfully what he sees, and not to confound his
facts with his theories.

Why does the cowbird lay its egg in another bird's nest? Why are
these parasitical birds found the world over? Who knows? Only there
seems to be a parasitical principle in Nature that runs all through
her works, in the vegetable as well as in the animal kingdom. Why is
the porcupine so tame and stupid? Because it does not have to hunt for
its game, and is self-armed against all comers. The struggle of life
has not developed its wits. Why are robins so abundant? Because they
are so adaptive, both as regards their food and their nesting-habits.
They eat both fruit and insects, and will nest anywhere--in trees,
sheds, walls, and on the ground. Why is the fox so cunning? Because
the discipline of life has made him cunning. Man has probably always
been after his fur; and his subsistence has not been easily obtained.
If you ask me why the crow is so cunning, I shall be put to it for an
adequate answer. It seems as if nobody could ever have wanted his skin
or his carcass, and his diet does not compel him to outwit live game,
as does that of the fox. His jet black plumage exposes him alike
winter and summer. This drawback he has had to meet by added wit, but
I can think of no other way in which he is handicapped. I do not know
that he has any natural enemies; yet he is one of the most suspicious
of the fowls of the air. Why is the Canada jay so much tamer than are
other jays? They belong farther north, where they see less of man;
they are birds of the wilderness; they are often, no doubt, hard put
to it for food; their color does not make them conspicuous,--all these
things, no doubt, tend to make them more familiar than their
congeners. Why, again, the chickadee can be induced to perch upon your
hand, and take food from it, more readily than can the nuthatch or the
woodpecker, is a question not so easily answered. It being a lesser
bird, it probably has fewer enemies than either of the others, and its
fear would be less in proportion.

Why does the dog, the world over, use his nose in covering the bone he
is hiding, and not his paw? Is it because his foot would leave a scent
that would give his secret away, while his nose does not? He uses his
paw in digging the hole for the bone, but its scent in this case would
be obliterated by his subsequent procedure.

The