CHARACTER IN FEATHERS. 65 
take a course in anthropology before he can 
love his neighbor. 
It is a truth only too patent that taste and 
conscience are sometimes at odds. One man 
wears his faults so gracefully that we can hardly 
help falling in love with them, while another, 
alas, makes even virtue itself repulsive. I am 
moved to this commonplace reflection by think- 
ing of the blue jay, a bird of doubtful character, 
but one for whom, nevertheless, it is impossible 
not to feel a sort of affection and even of re- 
spect. He is quite as suspicious as the brown 
thrush, and his instinct for an invisible perch is 
perhaps as unerring as the cuckoo’s ; and yet, 
even when he takes to hiding, his manner is 
not without a dash of boldness. He has a most 
irascible temper, also, but, unlike the thrasher, 
he does not allow his ill-humor to degenerate 
into chronic sulkiness. Instead, he flies into a 
furious passion, and is done with it. Some say 
that on such occasions he swears, and I have 
myself seen him when it was plain that nothing 
except a natural impossibility kept him from 
tearing his hair. His larynx would make him 
a singer, and his mental capacity is far above 
the average; but he has perverted his gifts, till 
his music is nothing but noise and his talent 
nothing but smartness. A like process of dep- 
ravation the world has before now witnessed in 
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