Birds suffer at times from their misjudgment or over-confidence, and this, it must be added, reflects upon us. The instances are numberless where birds have quickly learned that certain people love them, and they lose all fear. Again, naturally very timid birds soon learn when they are free from persecution. The writer frequently passes in the cars by a zoological garden on the bank of a river, and has been impressed with the abundant illustration of birds’ intelligence to be noticed there. The crows have learned that fire-arms are not allowed to be used anywhere near, and so they fearlessly hop about not only the enclosure of the garden, but the many tracks of the railroad just outside, showing no timidity even when the locomotives rush by. Stranger still, wild ducks gather in the river almost directly under the railroad bridge, and do not always dive out of sight as the trains pass by, and I have never seen them take wing, even when the whistle blew the quick, short, penetrating danger signal. To come back to their nests: birds have other enemies than man to guard against, and so are never in a hurry in the matter of determining where to build. Time and again a location has been discovered to be unsuitable after a nest has been commenced, and the structure abandoned. I have observed this many times. Indeed, my own curiosity has led the birds to move, they not quite approving my constant watching of what was going on. I well remember seating myself once in a shady nook to eat my lunch, and being almost attacked by a pair of black-and-white tree-creeping warblers. Their actions were plainly a protest against my staying where I was, and on looking about, I found that I had almost sat upon their nest, which was then just completed, but contained no eggs. I visited the spot the next day and found a single egg; but my coming was a mistake, for the birds now believed I had sinister designs, and abandoned their new-made home.