BIRD LEGEND AND LIFE 



The voice of the crow when heard distinctly has in it 

 s6mething of the winter's harshness and seems to harmonize 

 best with winter sounds — creaking boughs and shrieking 

 winds — ^but when modulated by distance it is .not unmusical. 

 In the twilight, when calling to his belated brethren across 

 tlie marshes, his uncanny call might well be taken for the 

 cry of a lost soul craving Christian burial. Yet this might 

 depend on one's mood. To each he seems to speak a differ- 

 ent language. To St. Athanasius he said: "Cras, eras!" 

 (To-morrow, to-morrow) ; to the sympathetic Tennyson he 

 always called, in tenderest accents, the name "Maud." 



Though this bird is said to have no tongue for express- 

 ing the happier emotions, the voice of the mother crow when 

 soothing her nestlings, with gurgling notes of endearment, is 

 tender as the robin's; and the head of the family, though 

 croaking savagely when his mate is molested, and though 

 able to send an exultant "caw" after a retreating enemy, 

 never lowers himself by scolding'as the jay does. 



In captivity, this bird is often taught to articulate dis- 

 tinctly, when he is as garrulous as in the wood. Occasion- 

 ally he even utters soimds akin to laughter — or what might 

 be considered laughter in one less grave. A crow that had 

 been taken from the nest and reared in a Virginia home 

 learned to recognize and call by name the different members 

 of the family, whom he followed about the house and grounds, 

 talldng incessantly, and making no attempt to return to his 

 own kind and to a wild life. 



While an inveterate collector of all small articles for 

 which he could have no possible use, shiny things like coins, 

 silver thimbles, beads and similar articles had an especial 

 attraction for him. Some of these he hid in out-of-the-way 

 places as other crows hide superfluous food for future use, 



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