TOO SHARP FOR ME. 93 



ion of me; slie did not move my sympathies as 

 do many birds, for slie appeared insulted and 

 angry, not in the least afraid. I wanted to see 

 her feed, and at last I did — almost ; she was to 

 the last too sharp for me. 



She came with a mouthful of food. Each 

 one of the three rose on his sturdy little legs, 

 fluttered his wings, opened his beak and cried. 

 It was a sort of whispered squawk, which shows 

 that the blue jay is a wary bird even in the 

 cradle. When they were all roused and eager, 

 the mother used that morsel as a bait to coax 

 them through the tree again. She did not give 

 it to either of her petitioners, but she moved 

 slowly from branch to branch, holding it before 

 them, and as one bird they followed, led by 

 their appetite, like bigger folk, — 



" Three souls with but a single thought, 

 Three hearts that beat as one ! " 



and as I had no desire to see them die of star- 

 vation, and leave the world so much poorer in 

 beauty, 1 came away and left them to their 

 repast. 



That was not the end of the blue jay episode. 

 A few days later a young bird, perhaps one of 

 this very trio, set out by himself in search of 

 adventures. Into the wide-open door of the 

 barn he flew, probably to see for what the swal- 

 lows were flying out and in. Alas for that 



