NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
when she left the nest she invariably called 
him to it with a peculiar inflection on the 
“c-a-a-w.”’ To me it said, “Come, come, 
dear ;” and he came instantly. Whatever 
may be crow etiquette on such occasions, 
“‘ Jim” was a model spouse, patient, faith- 
ful, and brave. 
Early one April morning, about two 
weeks after the first nest building, we no- 
ticed an unusual stir in the tree. Both 
parents were there on a limb near the nest; 
and, from the excited tones and comical 
oglings, we concluded that the babies had 
arrived at last. So the Man with the Cam- 
era once more ascended to investigate. Great 
was the commotion his presence created. 
Calmly to focus a camera while two angry 
crows are aiming at your eyes with beak and 
claws requires more than Roman fortitude, 
and he was forced to content himself with a 
hurried glance into the nest and a still more 
hurried descent. There were five of the 
homeliest bits of bird-life imaginable, naked, 
blind, with a dull greenish hue to their skin, 
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