JIM CROW 4 i 



over the fields. When he cries, " Come here, quick, 

 and help fight this owl!" even the dullest farmer's 

 lad knows at once the difference. There is no 

 doubt but the crows have a definite language of 

 their own, and no doubt but it contains a liberal 

 mixture of profanity. As a guest once remarked 

 when Jim was particularly provoked at the dog, who 

 had grabbed a bit of meat away from him, and was 

 expressing himself freely and fully, "That crow's 

 language makes a barge-driver sound like a Sunday- 

 school superintendent" an expression well within 

 the facts. 



How close a crow is to the intelligence of such an 

 animal as the dog has been attested on numerous 

 occasions. I once knew of a pet crow many years 

 ago, for example, which belonged to a small boy on a 

 farm. The boy's grandfather lived a few hundred 

 yards away, and every morning of the year the crow 

 flew first to the grandfather's house, waking that 

 old gentleman up with almost clockwork regularity 

 (he seldom varied more than fifteen minutes, though 

 the sun, supposedly his timepiece, varied whole 

 hours), and then he returned and roused his own 

 family. The family -rousing process was simple. He 

 perched on a bedroom window-sill and cawed. 

 Sleep thereafter became impossible. If you are 

 fond of sleeping late in the morning, by the way, do 

 not try to keep a pet crow, or you may become as 

 profane as he. It was this same crow which, greatly 

 to the children's delight and the teacher's wrath, 

 followed his little master to school one morning, 

 pounced upon the school-house key when the teacher 

 dropped it, and, flying to a low branch over her 



