22 WILD SCENES AND SONG-BIRDS. 



a " minnion of the mud" who has set up for worldly wisdom, 

 and he will dole you, measured by the foot-rule, putrescing 

 fragments of stale conventionalities, until the mortal stench, 

 rank in your complaining nostrils, offends your very life ; 

 but your singing birds prattle out of fashion, to lull the dewy 

 eye-lids of the eve; so do blithe young girls and angels, if 

 we may judge as for the morning stars that " sang together' 

 long ago, no doubt they did it out of all "rule and precedence." 

 Would that there were more of this prattling out of fashion, 

 to battle with the monster " monotone of Boredom." But 

 hear what Mr. Audubon himself writes concerning this quaint 

 citizen of whom we were speaking, while he pleads like 

 an old Priest of Brahma for mercy to all God's creatures. 

 He says 



" The Crow is an extremely shy bird, having found famil- 

 iarity with man no way to his advantage. He is also cun- 

 ning at least he is so called, because he takes care of him- 

 self and his brood. The state of anxiety, I may say of ter- 

 ror, in which he is constantly kept, would be enough to 

 spoil the temper of any creature. Almost every person has 

 an antipathy to him, and scarcely one of his race would be 

 left in the land, did he not employ all his ingenuity, and 

 take advantage of all his experience, in counteracting the 

 evil machinations of his enemies. I think I see him perched 

 on the highest branch of a tree, watching every object 

 around. He observes a man on horseback travelling towards 

 him; he marks his movements in silence. No gun does the 

 rider carry no, that is clear ; but perhaps he has pistols in 

 the holsters of his saddle ! of that the crow is not quite sure, 

 as he cannot either see them or ' smell powder.' He beats 

 the points of his wings, jerks his tail once or twice, bows his 

 head, and merrily sounds the joy which he feels at the mo- 

 ment. Another man he spies walking across the field to- 

 wards his stand, but he has only a stick. Yonder comes a 

 boy, shouldering a musket, loaded with large shot, for the 

 express purpose of shooting crows ! The bird immediately 



