84 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
his crest, and also by a white tip to his tail, which, 
when spread in flight, has the effect of a white 
crescent. He has a peculiar flight, holding his 
head up and using his wings in a labored way as 
it he were swimming. When looking for his din- 
ner he often flutters obliquely into the air, display- 
ing his shining white breast and fan-shaped tail 
to the best advantage. 
All the disagreeable qualities of the flycatchers 
seem to centre in this bird. His note is a harsh, 
scolding twitter. His crown proclaims him king, 
not by right, but by might, — such a bickering 
pugilist, such a domineering autocrat he is. The 
crow’s life becomes a plague when this tormentor 
gives chase ; and the smaller birds find themselves 
driven at the point of the bill from the fences they 
had considered public highways. 
But whatever may be the exact limit of his 
quarrelsomeness it stops short at home; old king- 
birds are certainly tender guardians of their 
young. I once watched a pair in search of food. 
They flew down to the haycocks in the meadow 
near the orchard, sat there reconnoitring for a 
moment, and then jumped into the grass to snap 
up the insect they had discovered. lying back 
to the young they flirted their wings and tails as 
they dropped the morsel into the gaping red 
throats, and in an instant were off again for a 
hunt in the air, or in another tree. And so they 
kept hard at work, looking everywhere till the 
