BLUE JAY. 71 
return in spring, teasing the young observer by 
imitating the cry of the redtailed hawk. But if 
the fancy takes them they spend the winter with 
us, Showing comparatively little of the timidity 
they feel in some localities. 
Last fall a party of jays stayed here for some 
time, but when I was congratulating myself on 
having them for the winter, they left, and did not 
return till the middle of January. Then one 
morning one of them appeared suddenly on a tree 
in front of the window. He seemed to have been 
there before, for he flew straight down to the corn 
boxes by the dining-room. The gray squirrels 
had nibbled out the sweetest part of the kernels, 
and he acted dissatisfied with what was left, drop- 
ping several pieces after he had picked them up. 
But at last he swallowed a few kernels and then 
took three or four in his bill at once and flew up 
in a maple. He must have deposited some of 
them in a crotch at the body of the tree, for after 
he had broken one in two under his claw — strik- 
ing it with “ sledge-hammer blows’? — he went back 
to the crotch, picked up something, flew back on 
the branch, and went through the process over 
again. ‘The second time he flew down to the corn 
boxes he did the same thing — ate two or three 
kernels, and then filled his bill full and flew off 
— this time out of sight. Since then I have often 
seen him carry his corn off in the same way, giv- 
ing his head a little toss to throw the kernels back 
