XI 
THE BLUE JAY 
SOME years ago, as the story comes to me, two 
collectors of birds met by accident in South 
America, one of them from Europe, the other 
from the United States. “ There is one bird that 
I would rather see than any other in the world,” 
said the European. “It is the handsomest of 
all the birds that fly, to my thinking, although 
I know it only in the cabinet. You have it in 
North America, but I suppose you do not often 
see it. I mean the blue jay.” 
What the American answered in words, I do 
not know; but I am pretty confident that he 
smiled. The European might almost as well 
have said that he supposed Boston people did 
not often see an English sparrow. Not that the 
blue jay swarms everywhere as the foreign spar- 
row swarms in our American cities ; but it is so 
common, sO noisy, sO conspicuous, and so unmis- 
takable, that it is, or ought to be, almost an 
everyday sight to all country dwellers. 
Strange as it seems, however, I find many 
