JOURNAL OF MAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



29 



clever family is confined to the use of 

 its beak. An individual of any spe- 

 cies of the crow race is doubtless ca- 

 pable of an act like this, for there is 

 in every branch of it an abundance 

 of intelligence and humor. But I am 

 suspicious that in this case the cul- 

 prits were jackdaws. In March and 

 April of 1875, 1 saw jackdaws building 

 their nests in the ruined walls of the 

 Baths of Caracalla. They constantly 

 kept up their cheerful and noisy cry as 

 they went in and out. But we cannot 

 be equally sure that the jackdaws were 

 alarmed at the presence of Dr. Knee- 

 land's party for their nests were locat- 

 ed high, in places quite inaccessible. 

 Probably the mischievous daws were 

 in sport and when they saw the visi- 

 tors enter the area of the Baths they 

 took the stones from the top of the 

 arches with the roguish but innocent 

 intention of discovering which could 

 drop his stone nearest the mark with- 

 out hitting. In a stanza of Cowper's 

 translation of a Latin ode written by 

 Vincent Bourne there is the following 

 worthy tribute to the jackdaw: 



Thrice happy bird! I too have seen 

 Much of the vanities of men; 

 And sick of having seen 'em. 

 Would cheerfully these limbs resign 

 For such a pair of wings as thine. 

 And such a head between 'em. 



I will close this division of my sub- 

 ject by relating, on the highest au- 

 thorities, two or three instances of 

 unusual sagacity shown by animals 

 belonging to the highest class. 



When Sir James Emerson Tennent 

 was in Ceylon as Colonial Secretary, 

 riding one day horseback along a 

 road he suddenly met an elephant 

 alone, bearing a stick of timber on 

 his tusks. At the sight of the ele- 

 phant the horse stopped and could 

 not be urged forward. The ele- 

 phant stopped a moment, then 

 quietly laid the piece of timber 

 lengthwise on one side of the road. 

 Then it turned and went some dis- 

 tance in the opposite direction and 

 backed into a jungle, concealing itself 

 all but its trunk. The horse went 

 willingly on its way until it spied the 

 elephant's trunk, when it stopped 

 again. The elephant backed further 

 into the jungle until he was entirely 

 concealed and the horse went shying 

 by. After a short time Tennent turn- 

 ed around to see what the elephant 

 was doing. It came out of the jungle, 



took up the piece of timber and went 

 on its way. 



The bovine genus is generally 

 thought to be one of the least intelli- 

 gent of all the races of the larger ani- 

 mals, which is by no means conceded 

 by those best acquainted with our 

 domestic cattle. Last summer during 

 my visit to Sandwich, my brother and 

 I one evening went to the pasture for 

 his cow. He was tired and I hastened 

 ahead to let the cow out of the lane into 

 the road. I opened the gate and the 

 cow passed by me and I followed her 

 along towards home. When the cow 

 met my brother and was just passing 

 him, she turned square about and look- 

 ed first at him, then at me, several 

 times. After waiting a little she 

 turned slowly back towards home. 

 She seemed to come to a conclusion 

 and say to herself, "They are both 

 old, have white hair and resemble 

 each other but, as I looked from one 

 to the other, I saw a difference. One 

 of them is my old friend, and the 

 other is a stranger." 



The horse is the most highly en- 

 dowed of all the animals with which 

 we are acquainted, with one excep- 

 tion. Its services to man are most 

 valuable and varied and they are 

 often performed amid the greatest 

 difficulties and hardships. It is at 

 the mercy of all kinds of owners and 

 drivers. Its hardships are often as 

 great when in the hands of a kind but 

 eccentric man as when in the hands 

 of a cruel one. Its sufferings are too 

 great to dwell on. Its virtues and 

 intelligence are too well known to 

 need illustration and I will leave the 

 horse after briefly relating a story of 

 a New England Divine of the eight- 

 eenth century and his horse. The 

 dear Doctor was scriptural in his 

 method of feeding his horse. A day 

 of plenty was likely to be followed by 

 a lean day. The doctor rode horse- 

 back when he went to make his calls. 

 Sometimes this absent-minded pastor 

 put on the saddle hind part fore. On 

 the first occasion of the occurrence 

 of this slight mistake the horse 

 was too proud to set out in this 

 fashion and he was fractious and 

 balky but he soon learned that the 

 eccentric doctor was incorrigible and 

 he quietly went on as always before. 

 The horse soon learned at what 

 houses the doctor called Monday, 

 where he called Tuesday, where Wed- 



