GOOD-BYE TO SUMMER 223 



is sure to be of one feather or the other. They 

 do not flock together. That is no doubt just as 

 well, for I have great respect for the flicker. He 

 is a whimsical old codger, very prone to talk to 

 himself and go through strange gymnastics in a 

 rather ridiculous way, but the flicker is honest. 

 He brings up a large family in the strictest 

 probity and I have never known a flicker to do a 

 wrong thing. On the other hand, the blue jay 

 is a thief, a mocker and a murderer. Just now 

 he is living honestly on nuts and wild fruit, tak- 

 ing almost as many acorns as the squirrels and 

 making a geat deal of talk about it. You would 

 think him the most open-hearted chap in the 

 world, but if you will watch him carefully in the 

 spring you will learn things which are to his dis- 

 advantage. You will likely find him taking a 

 raw egg or two with his breakfast, to the sorrow 

 of some small bird. Later, the fledglings are not 

 safe from him, and if you shake a blue jay up in 

 a bag with a crow and then open the bag, two ar- 

 rant rogues will fly out, and it is hard telling 

 which will have the other's tail feathers. For all 

 that, I rather like the blue jay. If we are going 

 strictly to condemn all who have a liking for an 

 occasional small hot bird, there will be but few 



