THE BRONZED CRACKLE. 



[Quiscaius quiscula ceneus.) 



Perhaps no other of our native birds 

 is more generally known or often seen 

 than the Crow Blackbird, or Bronzed 

 Crackle as it is sometimes called. In- 

 deed the number of names by which 

 this bird is known, Purple Crackle, Com- 

 mon Blackbird and Crow Blackbird, 

 serves to show how widely the bird is 

 known, and, perhaps, indicates a rather 

 remote acquaintance in general not so 

 familiar and close as that we have for 

 robins and bluebirds. 



The Bronzed Crackle is truly remark- 

 able for his adaptability to all sorts of 

 conditions. The number of these birds 

 has probably been greatly decreased by 

 the changes which have taken place in 

 the country, but they now bid fair to 

 hold their own pretty well, for they have 

 taken to changed conditions so natur- 

 ally that nothing seems to disconcert 

 them. Whether the forest is cleared 

 away to naked fields, or whether the city 

 is built, makes apparently little differ- 

 ence to the Crackle. He is at home as 

 much in the city park as in the open field, 

 and almost at home as much in the open 

 field as in the primeval forest, and as 

 much on the ground as on the treetops. 

 The bird that comes nearest to him in 

 this respect and also in general appear- 

 ance and habits is the crow, but the crow 

 usually fights shy of cities and houses, 

 while the Crackle is at home in shady 

 towns and frequently prefers to roost in 

 the evergreens in the farmer's dooryard. 



Perhaps, this bird would serve as one 

 of the best examples we have of a per- 

 sistent type. What are the qualities a 

 bird should possess to enable it to with- 

 stand the changes brought about by 

 man? we may ask, and this bird can 

 give us a few answers, at least, in so far 

 as his case is concerned. 



In the first place, he is not too hand- 

 some. Beautiful he is, indeed when one 



catches glimpses of the metallic irrides- 

 cence of his plumage, and it is a pleasure 

 to glance at him from different direc- 

 tions in the sunlight, as it is to play a 

 diamond in the light, but the great mass 

 of hastening people do not stop to look 

 at a bird that way, and the impression he 

 generally gives is that of a rather som- 

 ber individual, not catching the eye 

 nearly so quickly as a redbird or jay 

 would. He seems to be always dressed 

 in mourning; rich, indeed, but not 

 gaudy, and no one cares to catch and 

 put him in a cage, and no woman sighs 

 for him to adorn her hat. 



His deportment is stately and grave, 

 as becomes his garb. If he were a bit 

 joyous and quick some one would find 

 fun shooting at him, but as it is, only a 

 few boys with their first guns try a shot 

 at him now and then and find it more in- 

 teresting than shooting at a wooden tar- 

 get. However, they soon find a dead 

 blackbird is nothing to boast of, and so 

 let this bird alone. 



And he does not tempt the appetite 

 particularly. People have eaten him, and 

 some have called him good eating, but 

 have never seemed particularly to yearn 

 for a piece of Blackbird again. Certain 

 it is that his name is not enrolled high 

 among favored delicacies. 



And he never makes such a grave 

 nuisance of himself so that everybody 

 wishes he were dead. He is said to some- 

 times eat the eggs of other birds, and 

 now and then he does make a raid on 

 the farmer's corn, for which latter act 

 the farmer too promptly punishes him, 

 unmindful of good work the bird does 

 by lessening the number of grubs, but 

 damage done is only occasional and the 

 bird is almost constantly doing some 

 good to offset it. 



In spite of his becoming a resident of 

 the town and dwelling in the farmer's 



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