of dirt so that
it flew toward him. He dashed furiously at her. She gave one hop which
took her about a foot away, and then it appeared that she coveted a
kernel of corn that was near him when the offense was given, for she
instantly jumped back and pounced upon it as if she expected to be
annihilated. He ran after her and drove her off, but she kept her prize.

Eating one of those hard grains was no joke to anybody without teeth,
and it was a serious affair to one of the blackbirds. He took it into
his beak, dropped both head and tail, and gave his mind to the cracking
of the sweet morsel. At this time he particularly disliked to be
disturbed, and the only time I saw one rude to a youngster was when
struggling with this difficulty. While feeding the nestlings, they broke
the kernels into bits, picked up all the pieces, filling the beak the
whole length, and then flew off with them.

But they were not always allowed to keep the whole kernel. They were
generally attended while on the ground by a little party of thieves,
ready and waiting to snatch any morsel that was dropped. These were, of
course, the English sparrows. They could not break corn, but they liked
it for all that, so they used their wits to secure it, and of sharpness
these street birds have no lack. The moment a blackbird alighted on the
grass, a sparrow or two came down beside him, and lingered around,
watching eagerly. Whenever a crumb dropped, one rushed in and snatched
it, and instantly flew from the wrath to come.

The sparrows had not been at this long before some of the wise
blackbirds saw through it, and resented it with proper spirit. One of
them would turn savagely after the sparrow who followed him, and the
knowing rascal always took his departure. It was amusing to see a
blackbird working seriously on a grain, all his faculties absorbed in
the solemn question whether he should succeed in cracking his nut, while
two or three feathered pilferers stood as near as they dared, anxiously
waiting till the great work should be accomplished, the hard shell
should yield, and some bits should fall.

About five days after the feast was spread, the young came out in force,
often two of them following one adult about on the grass, running after
him so closely that he could hardly get a chance to break up the kernel;
indeed, he often had to fly to a tree to prepare the mouthfuls for them.
The young blackbird has not the slightest repose of manner; nor, for