192 What Birds Have Done With Me 



there was no cause for action. And with this 

 anecdote I rest my case. Many years ago, in a 

 country church, a tame Crow flew into the build- 

 ing and, lighting on the sounding board of a 

 half century ago, interrupted the evening revival 

 by croaking out from the gloom that concealed 

 him from all eyes, when the good man was mak- 

 ing the opening prayer: "Damn you," and again, 

 "Damn you," and so he kept it up till human 

 nature could not stand it and, seized with super- 

 stitious fear, the Reverend man and the entire con- 

 gregation fled, with the exception of one old 

 woman, who recognized that it was a tame crow 

 talking. And when he kept on with his maledic- 

 tions after the two were alone, she with some 

 natural ire, shook her finger in the direction of 

 the voice and said, "See here, Billy, you hain't 

 got no occasion to damn me, for I don't belong 

 to this church no how." 



Whether I win or lose, I some way feel that 

 I have at least earned the right of exemption 

 from the malediction of a tame Crow, for I do 

 not belong "no how" to that vast company of 

 superstitious, uninformed, avaricious tillers of the 

 soil who seek his life, to take it away. 



