place never seemed to occur to him. After a little of this
contention, the mocker generally succeeded in carrying off a bit to some
quiet place, where he could eat at his leisure. Wishing them to live
peaceably, I placed a slice of the fruit on a high gas-fixture, where
the stranger was fond of alighting and no other bird ever went. He
understood at once, flew over to it, and ate his fill. The Mexican
observed this, and tramped over his cages (it was before he had retired
from the world) in a rage, seeing "good times going on," and feeling,
evidently, unable to fly so high. Somewhat later the thrush noticed the
excitement, flew heavily up, with difficulty alighted beside the apple,
snatched it off, and carried it to the floor.

Settlement of difficulties between these two birds was no chance
happening; it was, to all appearance, a regularly planned campaign, and,
like a savage, the aggressor put on his war paint and danced his war
dance. It was extremely interesting to watch, although painful to
realize that a bird could be animated by emotions so--must I call them
human? He selected, for the declaration of his intentions, a moment when
the thrush was in his own house and the door open. The approach to this
cage was by a light ladder, the top round of which, about a foot in
length, rested perhaps four inches from the cage, and level with the
door. Upon this round the mocking-bird executed what has been called his
war dance, shaking himself, shuffling (or moving along without raising
the feet), and agitating his feathers in such a way that they rustled
like stiff new silk. After a few minutes of this performance he flew
away, returning presently to repeat it. This he did again and again, and
his motive was plain. "You've domineered long enough," his manner said:
"now come out here, and we'll settle this matter at once." The bird in
the cage, though plainly surprised at this sudden exhibition of spirit,
received it like a thrush--in silent dignity. He paid no attention to
the demonstration further than to keep his eye upon the enemy, unless he
appeared to think of entering the door, when he turned his open bill in
that direction. A long time having passed in these manoeuvres, the
thrush, apparently tired of waiting for the belligerent to vacate his
front doorstep, retired to the upper perch, and the mocking-bird
immediately entered below, took his stand by the food-dish, and defied
the owner, who came with open beak to dis