PURPLE GRAKLE. 59 



another, destroying a far worse enemy to the corn than itself, for every 

 worm which it devours would else shortly cut the slender blade, and thereby 

 destroy the plant when it would perhaps be too late to renew it by fresh 

 seed. Every reflecting farmer knows this well, and refrains from disturbing 

 the Grakle at this season. Were he as merciful at another time, it would 

 prove his grateful recollection of the services thus rendered him. But man 

 is too often forgetful of the benefit which he has received; he permits his too 

 commonly weak and selfish feelings to prevail over his reason; and no 

 sooner does the corn become fit for his own use, than he vows and executes 

 vengeance on all intruders. But to return to our Blackbird. 



The season of love has arrived. Each male having, by assiduity, valour, 

 or good fortune, received the affectionate regards of a faithful mate, unites 

 with her in seeking a safe and agreeable retreat. The lofty dead trees left 

 standing in our newly cultivated fields, have many holes and cavities, some 

 of which have been bored by Woodpeckers, and others caused by insects or 

 decay. These are visited and examined in succession, until a choice being 

 made, and a few dry weeds and feathers collected, the female deposits her 

 eggs, which are from four to six in number, of a bluish tint, blotched and 

 streaked with brown and black. She sits upon them while her valiant mate 

 and guardian mounts to the summit of a broken branch, pours forth his rude 

 notes, and cheers and watches her with the kindest and most unremitting 

 care. I think I see him plunging through the air and overtaking the Red- 

 headed or the Golden-winged Woodpecker, which, in search of their last 

 year's nest, have imprudently alighted at the entrance of the already chosen 

 and occupied hole. The conflict is but momentary; the creeping bird is 

 forced to yield, and after whirling round in the air as it defends itself, and 

 very nearly comes to the ground, makes the best of its way off, well know- 

 ing that there its opponent is more formidable than even in the air. 



This over, the Grakle roams in quest of food. Little heaps of grubs, with 

 a few grains of corn, afford delicious repasts to himself and his mate. They 

 thus share the labours of incubation, and see the time pass in eager and 

 pleasant expectation. And now the emerging brood shake off the shell that 

 so long enclosed them; their tottering heads are already raised toward their 

 mother, while she, with intense anxiety, dries and cherishes them. They 

 grow up day after day. The hole becomes nearly filled with their increased 

 bulk. The vigilance and industry of the parents also augment apace. I 

 wish, good-natured reader, you would seek out such a sight: it would glad- 

 den your heart, for the rearing of such a family is worthy of your contem- 

 plation. 



It is with regret that I must turn from this picture. I have already told 

 you that the Grakles are at least as fond of corn as the lords of the land are. 

 Hark to the sound of rattles, and the hallooing of the farmer's sons and 



