only while his young are in the nest
clamoring for food. What are some of the proofs of his vandalism? I
will mention a few of them.

First, almost all the small birds make uncompromising war upon him,
especially in the breeding season, and many of them show signs of dire
distress when he goes near their nests. They often utter pitiful
cries, droop their wings, and the bravest of them dash at him savagely,
giving him many a cuff on the head and back. The wood pewee and the
kingbird succeed, I think, in driving him away; but the vireos and
warblers, being so much smaller, suffer greatly from his depredations.
If there were no real cause for it, these birds would not be filled
with panic and rage on account of the jay's presence. There is strong
presumptive evidence that they know him for an outlaw only too well.

The following incident will furnish positive proof of the jay's
cannibalistic proclivities: One spring my little boy brought home from
the country a young house wren, thinking it would make a delightful
pet. It was quite well fledged, but its short tail and white mouth
border proclaimed the tenderness of its youth. Fearing that the little
thing could not be reared by hand, as it refused all our proffered
tidbits, and chirped continually for its parents, I persuaded the lad
to give it its freedom. A mother wren living on our premises seemed
inclined to adopt the little waif, and we decided to put it under her
care. No sooner was the youngling let out of the cage than it flew to
the side of the house and began to scramble up the brick wall. It had
a hard tug, but at length succeeded in reaching a resting place on a
window-shutter of the second story.

Presently the mother wren heard its calls and paid it a visit; but
instead of feeding it, she seemed very anxious to drive it away,
knowing, no doubt, that there were predaceous enemies in the
neighborhood. In her attempts to drive it into hiding, she pecked it
on the head and in the mouth. Then she dropped down into a thicket and
secured a green worm, with which she flew up to the chirping waif's
perch; but I could not make out that she fed the birdling, though she
thrust the worm toward its open mouth. Soon after she had gone off the
second time, the little bird clambered around the corner of the wall to
the lower side of the house, where it rested a while on a narrow shelf.

All this time my boy and I were watching it intently. Suddenly a blue
j