The Audubon Societies 389 



fledged Blue Jay with beautiful glossy wings and tail. It was then that he 

 began to get lovable — yes, lovable is a proper adjective for our Blue Jay's 

 character. 



Naturally imaginative, I continually pictured to myself policemen taking 

 us into court for keeping the bird. I spoke of my fears repeatedly. One day 

 my mother said, "We ought not to keep this bird, not only because it is unlaw- 

 ful, but also because the bird will not always thrive in the house. He is now 

 old enough and strong enough to take care of himself, and I think I ought to 

 take him out into the woods." 



We didn't live far from the woods, so one morning she took him out, fullv 

 a mile or more from houses. She had been back home about an hour when, to 

 our surprise, we heard a few loud screeches. Going to the door we saw — what do 

 you think? — Master Blue Jay pecking at the door. Then he would cock his 

 head to one side, and in his language say, "Let me in! Give me some mash. 

 I'm not so easy to get rid of as you think. Had a hard time finding the place, but 

 I finally reached here." Well, the situation was so funny that we all laughed. 

 Then we took him in and fed him. We decided then and there to let him stay. 

 A pet so dear and loyal we would keep, law or not. 



After that occasion we could let Blue Jay fly anywhere inside the house, or 

 outside, for there was no danger of his forgetting to come back. He loved his 

 mash too well. In fact, he couldn't, or wouldn't, eat the seeds, leaves, and other 

 things which wild birds eat. 



We had a Canary in a small cage. The Canary was a beautiful singer, and 

 the Blue Jay would listen intently while he sang. At times the Blue Jay would 

 stare at the Canary for a long while, as if to say, "What kind of a bird are you? 

 How do you sing so nicely when I can do nothing but scream?" Yes, I'm sure 

 he asked this last question, for after a time, the Blue Jay would attempt to 

 sing. Imagine that! A Blue Jay trying to imitate the sweet, trilling notes of a 

 Canary. 



At first his attempts were crude, but after several weeks Mr. Blue Jay 

 could sing. He could actually sing, not so sweetly as a Canary, of course, but 

 sing he could. It was wonderful to hear him begin to screech, then, stopping a 

 few minutes as if in thought, he would finally trill a few notes, going from low 

 to higher notes until his song was almost sweet. His breast would swell with 

 pride. Then he would look maliciously at the Canary, as if to say, "Eh! 

 You're not the only smart fellow around here I" Now this was very remarkable. 

 Certainly it is not natural for a Blue Jay to sing. If it were, they would ha\e 

 learned long ago to do so, from their comrades in the woods. 



Our visitors often desired to buy him, but we wouldn't sell him, first, 

 because we had grown attached to him, and, second, because it was unlawful. 



When we let him out of the cage, he would perch on our shoulders and peck 

 playfully at our ears or hair. He never hurt, but he could if he wished. Here is 

 proof: Sometimes people would come to the house at night. Of course, we 



