334 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



A HUMANIZED JAY. 



By Margaret Wentworth Leighton, 



24 Melrose Highlands, Mass. 



It was on a Sunday afternoon in mid-June that little J-J came to the 

 home of his adoption. His budding wings were tinged with exquisite 

 blue, and his tail had just begun to peep forth , a row of blue feathers a 

 quarter of an inch long tipped with white. He had been in our poses- 

 sion less than ten minutes when he opened his mouth (a fiery red cav- 

 ern almost large enough to engulf his whole person) and cried for food. 



"What shall we give him ?" was the momentous question. 



"A worm," suggested one. 



"Some bread," said another. 



"Try raw egg," spoke a third. 



J-J accepted all of these suggestions with alacrity. He gobbled 

 down worm after worm, and as for the egg he tried his very best to 

 swallow the spoon every time a dose was administered to him. After 

 a hearty meal he settled down with his head beneath his wing for an 

 after-dinner nap, but what was our dismay, when scarce five minutes 

 had elapsed, to hear our pet calling as lustily for food as though he 

 had been fasting half a dozen hours instead of minutes. 



For the first fortnight a great deal of time was devoted to this little 

 gourmand for what was one to do when he cried so piteously and flut- 

 tered his wings so appealingly ? At the earliest glimmer of dawn he 

 awoke ravenously hungry and began to scream lustily and beat about 

 the cage, breaking his wing and tail feathers in his mad attempts to 

 burst his prison bars. These struggles continued with slight intervals 

 for rest until six o'clock, when we appeared and were rapturously 

 welcomed. 



During the second week of his adoption he learned to pick up a 

 wriggling worm from the ground, but when flies were given him they 

 invariably escaped until it occured to me to clip their wings before 

 before offering them to him. 



J-J was a most affectionate little being. The burden of his song 

 was "To be near thee, to be near thee, alone is peace for me," and his 

 life text "Whither thou goest I will go; were thou lodgest I will 

 lodge, and thy people shall be my people." If I seated myself at one 

 side of the room and he was in another part of it, his first act was to 

 fly as near to me as possible, perching on my shoulder or head when 

 he was allowed to do so. He loved to sit on the typewriter and listen 

 to its click click. He would follow us all about the house and yard, 

 and watch with deepest interest whatever work was in progress. 



