that matter, has the old one either. The grown-ups treated the young
well, almost always; they never "squee-gee'd" at them, never touched
them in any way, notwithstanding they were so insistent in begging that
they would chase an adult bird across the grass, calling madly all the
time, and fairly force him to fly away to get rid of them.

Once two young ones got possession of the only spot where corn was left,
and so tormented their elders who came that they had to dash in and
snatch a kernel when they wanted one. One of the old ones danced around
these two babies in a little circle a foot in diameter, the infants
turning as he moved, and ever presenting open beaks to him. It was one
of the funniest exhibitions I ever saw. After going around half a dozen
times, the baffled blackbird flew away without a taste.

When the two had driven every one else off the ground by their
importunities, one of them plucked up spirit to try managing the corn
for himself. Like a little man he stopped bawling, and began exercising
his strength on the sweet grain. Upon this his neighbor, instead of
following his example, began to beg of him! fluttering his wings,
putting up his beak, and almost pulling the corn out of the mouth of the
poor little fellow struggling with his first kernel!

Sometimes a young one drove his parent all over a tree with his
supplications. Higher and higher would go the persecuted, with his
tormentor scrambling, and half flying after, till the elder absolutely
flew away, much put out.

Long before this time the corn had been used up. But I could not bear to
lose my morning entertainment, for all these things took place between
four and six A. M.--so I made a trip to the village, and bought
a bag of the much desired dainty, some handfuls of which I scattered
every night after birds were abed, ready for the sunrise show.
Blackbirds were not the only guests at the feast; there were the
doves,--mourning, or wood-doves,--who dropped to the grass, serene as a
summer morning, walking around in their small red boots, with mincing
steps and fussy little bows. Blue jays, too, came in plenty, selected
each his grain and flew away with it. Robins, seeing all the excitement,
came over from their regular hunting-ground, but never finding anything
so attractive as worms, they soon left.

The corn feast wound up with a droll excitement. One day a child from
the house took her doll out in the grass to play, set it up against