128 IN THE MIDDLE COUNTRY. 



a good deal of the time feeding the whole family. 

 I acquired a new respect for Cyanotitta cristata. 



I had not watched the blue jays long before I 

 was struck with the peculiar character of the 

 feathered world about me, the strange absence 

 of small birds. The neighbors were blackbirds 

 (purple grackles), Carolina doves, golden-winged 

 and red-headed woodpeckers, robins and cardinal 

 grosbeaks, and of course English sparrows, all 

 large birds, able to hold their own by force of 

 arms, as it were, except the foreigner, who main- 

 tained his position by impudence and union, a 

 mob being his weapon of offense and defense. 

 Beside him no small bird lived in the vicinity. 

 No vireo hung there her dainty cup, while her 

 mate preached his interminable sermons from 

 the trees about ; no phoebe shouted his woes to 

 an unsympathizing world ; no sweet-voiced gold- 

 finch poured out his joyous soul ; not a song- 

 sparrow tuned his little lay within our borders. 

 Unseen of men, but no doubt sharply defined 

 to clearer senses than ours, was a line barring 

 them out. 



Who was responsible for this state of things ? 

 Could it be the one pair of jays in the pine, or 

 the colony of blackbirds the other side of the 

 house? Should we characterize it as a blue 

 jay neighborhood or a blackbird neighborhood ? 

 The place was well policed, certainly ; robins 



