138 WAKE-ROBIN 



All parks and public grounds about the city are 

 full of blackbirds. They are especially plentiful in 

 the trees about the White House, breeding there 

 and waging war on all other birds. The occupants 

 of one of the offices in the west wing of the Treasury 

 one day had their attention attracted by some object 

 striking violently against one of the window-panes. 

 Looking up, they beheld a crow blackbird pausing 

 in midair, a few feet from the window. On the 

 broad stone window-sill lay the quivering form of a 

 purple finch. The little tragedy was easily read. 

 The blackbird had pursued the finch with such 

 murderous violence that the latter, in its desperate 

 efforts to escape, had sought refuge in the Treasury. 

 The force of the concussion against the heavy plate* 

 glass of the window had killed the poor thing in- 

 stantly. The pursuer, no doubt astonished at the 

 sudden and novel termination of the career of its 

 victim, hovered a moment, as if to be sure of what 

 had happened, and made off. 



(It is not unusual for birds, when thus threatened 

 with destruction by their natural enemy, to become 

 so terrified as to seek safety in the presence of man. 

 I was once startled, while living in a country vil- 

 lage, to behold, on entering my room at noon, one 

 October day, a quail sitting upon my bed. The 

 affrighted and bewildered bird instantly started for 

 the open window, into which it had no doubt been 

 driven by a hawk.) 



The crow blackbird has all the natural cunning 

 of his prototype, the crow. In one of the inner 



