One of Our Neighbors 2n 



of human companionship, always sitting on the arm of our chair, or on the 

 bough of the tree under which we sat. Once we heard a voice above us say, 

 "Oh! oh!" and, on looking up, we saw Bill flapping his wings for welcome; then 

 he said, "Hello! hello!" The Crows, too, are fond of the companionship of 

 each other, the nests of the entire flock always being in one locality. They 

 believe in the communistic form of living. 



Bill had his entire freedom and, though he stayed at home most of the time, 

 he occasionally visited the wild Crows. One day he was present when the 

 peas were picked for dinner, and was much interested in the process, especially 

 in the fact that three or four sweet, tender peas were within each pod. The 

 ne.xt day he flew away to the wild Crows. Suddenly a great cawing was heard, 

 caws loud and excited. We looked out to see a flock of Bill's black brothers in 

 the yard. That ended our peas for that summer, for in a few moments not one 

 was to be found. The Crows dined that morning on spring peas. His favorite 

 food, however, was cheese. He always soaked it before eating it, and so, of the 

 large portion we gave him, there was finally nothing left but a clean piece 

 of cheesecloth. 



He was also much interested in the washing, especially in the placing of 

 the clothespins. A tablecloth was once put upon the grass to bleach. Bill 

 cawed excitedly when he saw it, then he flew away and returned immediately 

 with a clothespin which he placed on one of the corners of the tablecloth. 

 On another occasion, the maid was hanging the clothes on the line, but was 

 obliged to stop, not being able to find the pins. Bill assisted in the search and 

 soon returned with one in his mouth. He had found the basket of pins some 

 distance back in the garden under a tree. 



The Crow is noted for its fondness for bright colors, and in this respect 

 Bill was no exception. His admiration for beautiful jewelry was equal to 

 that of any society belle. He would often light on the arm of the chair, when 

 one was sewing, and beg for the thimble, picking at it and making a peculiar 

 little sound something like the half-crying tone of a child. The thimble was 

 generally given to him, and he would fly away to hide it under the leaves. He 

 was very indignant if we picked it up again, and we generally waited till he 

 was gone to deprive him of his hidden treasures— pins, buttons, tacks, or 

 anything that was bright enough to attract his admiration. 



We never returned home, after a little visit in the neighborhood, without 

 being welcomed by Bill's happy "Caw! cawF'' And now, whenever I hear a 

 caw and see one or more of these dusky birds flying through the air, I remember 

 not that these feathered friends of ours take our corn and cherries, but that 

 no animal excels them in intelligence and affection. 



