THE OOLOGIST 



203: 



My Loquacious Pet- 



During the last wetk of June, '84 I 

 came across a pair of young Blue Jays 

 that had fallen out of their nest. Their 

 wing feathers were yet too short to as- 

 sist in flight, so that I had little diffi- 

 culty in catching them. On reaching 

 home I put them in a large cage. They 

 hopped about a while and then squat- 

 ted down in a corner. On being dis- 

 turbed they opened wide their black, 

 crow-like beaks, showing their pink 

 tongues. They soon learned to know 

 me, and would flutter their wings and 

 cry for me to cram Mocking Bird food 

 into their cavei'nous mouths. 



In spite of my constant attention one 

 died. The other was fed several times 

 a day for some weeks and finally learn- 

 ed to pick for himself. 



Two months later, his wings and tail 

 took on a gaudy, blue metallic color, 

 banded by narrow stripes of black. 

 The dark oval which hung on his neck 

 like a horse's collar became glossy 

 black. "Doc" was now certainly a 

 handsome pet. 



Like all other beauties he had a tend- 

 ency to be sly an 1 mischievous. When 

 loose in the room he would hide a 

 thimble or a button under the pin- 

 cushion and then seize pin after pin, 

 throwing them over his shoulder until 

 none but those deeply dx'iven into the 

 cushion remained. During all these 

 antics, his large crest was ever rising 

 and falling in a manner just as expres- 

 sive as a horse's ears. 



If I was reclining on the sofa. Doc 

 would fly and nestle close against my 

 cheek, and then run his beak between 

 my lips. Besides being a loving, af- 

 fectionate pet, he was an excellent ball 

 player, seldom muS'ing a cotton pellet, 

 swiftly thi'owu from a distance of eight 

 or ten feet. 



These were not his only accomplish- 

 ments. His vocal achievements sur- 

 passed his athletic feats. With the ex- 



ception of the pretty double whistle or- 

 yodle, Doc gave all the notes of the 

 wild Jay, including many soft whistles, 

 trills and chuckles. 



My plaj'mates announced their ar- 

 rival by a peculiar, shrill yell, which 

 my pet soon reproduced so accurately 

 as to decieve me. Occasionally he 

 whistled to the dogs, and then battered 

 against the wires in terror as they 

 pranced sheepishly about the cage. 



My grandfather, being a fesble old 

 gentleman, was in the habit of calling 

 tot'the hired man at the barn many 

 times during the day. One sultry af- 

 ternoon my grandmother Decame 

 alarmed by the incessant calling to the- 

 hired man She rushed about the 

 house in breathless anxiety lest some 

 accident had befallen her husband. 

 He had been fast asleep on the lounge 

 and was not pleasantly impressed to 

 be awakened so unceremoniously. As 

 they wore explaining and discuss ug 

 the matter, they heard in the exact re- 

 production of my grandfather's voice, 

 Ed- ward! Ed- ward! Ed- ward! Stepping 

 softlj'^ to the door, my grandmother 

 caught Doc in the act of calling. 



Some months later. Doc tried to call 

 Maggie, but he was never able to say 

 anything but Mag-ward, though I used 

 to stand by and yell "ie, ie, Magg-te," 

 at the top of my lungs. 



In '86 my Jay was swapped for some 

 pigeons and seventy-five cents. In his 

 new home he heard a lady call her deaf 

 husband very loudly, and soon learned 

 to yell Henry! Henry! 



Doc's end was tragic. In former 

 days he would kill and eat a mouse, 

 but in his new home he met with rats 

 instead of mice. One dark and howl- 

 ing I'ainy night the rats made war on 

 Doc and slew him in revenge. 



Sylvester D. Judd. 



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