l. Must we then conclude that the dignity of a bird depends upon the
length of his tail? We are accustomed to regard the crow as a grave and
solemn personage with a serious role in life; and indeed life is such a
constant warfare to him that I cannot see how he finds any enjoyment in
it. Lowell says of him at one period:--

"The crow is very comical as a lover, and to hear him try to soften
his croak to the proper Saint Preux standard has something the
effect of a Mississippi boatman quoting Tennyson."

If he is droll as a lover, he is much more entertaining as an infant.
The first I knew of the new use of the pasture, I heard one morning a
strange cry. It was loud and persistent, and sounded marvelously like
"Ma-a! Ma-a!" Mingled with it I heard the vigorous cries of crows.

I looked over into the pasture, and there I first saw the crow baby,
nearly as big and black as his mamma, but with no tail to speak of. He
sat--not stood--on the rail fence, bawling at the top of his hoarse
baby-voice, "Ma! Ma! Ma!" and as he grew impatient he uttered it faster
and faster and louder and louder, drawing in his breath between the
cries, and making it more like "Wah! Wah!" Whenever mamma flew over he
followed her movement with his eyes, turning his head, and showing an
eager, almost painful interest, till some one took pity on him and fed
him. As he saw food approaching his voice ran up several tones higher,
in laughable imitation of a human baby cry. This note is of course the
promise of a "caw," but the _a_ is flattened to the sound of _a_ in bar,
which makes it a ludicrous caricature of our own first utterances.

But sometimes mamma did not heed the cries, and sailed calmly by,
alighting a few rails beyond her hungry infant, though he held out his
fluttering wings in the bird-baby's begging way, exactly as does a young
warbler who wouldn't be a mouthful for him. Then the little fellow would
start up on unsteady legs, to walk the rail to reach her, balancing
himself with outspread wings, and when he got beside her, put his beak
to hers in a coaxing way that I don't see how any mother could resist.
But this wise dame had evidently hardened her heart. She probably wanted
him to learn to help himself, for she dropped to the ground, and went
wading about in the wet grass and mud, and at length flew off without
giving him a morsel. Then the disappointed youngster cuddled up to a
brother crow baby, and both lifted up the