was right in her line; she began pulling everything in sight. A crow does not have a 
large strong beak for nothing. When she started pulling bulblets from the row I yelled 
and threw handfuls of dirt. I found that throwing dirt was the biggest insult I could 
offer. She flattened to the ground, faced me in streamlined position to shed the dirt 
and let out protesting squawks. Well, it was only a short while and she was following my 
hands in the row watching every detail. She could not resist trying it again and very 
shortly was pulling grass the same as | was doing. At first she made some mistakes 
and when she pulled a bulblet I yelled. After three or four days of this she rarely made 
a mistake, just pulled the grasses out root and all, but kept a sharp eye for larvae and 
other forms of insects. She would generally work several minutes with me before some 
distraction like a grasshopper or other passing insect claimed her attention. After a 
few minutes she would return as if to see how | was getting along, then take another 
spell at weeding a few feet in the row. 
When the Glads came into bloom and | began pollenating the lowers Oscar would 
ride on my shoulder greatly interested in what | was doing. She would edge down my 
arm with sharp eyes taking in every detail of the operation. She would try to perch on 
my wrists but I always pushed her back or dropped my arm, so she would retreat to my 
shoulders. She certainly was curious about the way I manipulated the pistils and stamens 
of the Glad flowers. She noted how I always removed the stamens from the flowers and 
cast them aside; nothing else was destroyed. One day her big chance came. Many 
choice varieties were coming into bloom; it was just three days before the State Show 
in Ames, 1946. I was checking on the developing spikes, moving slowly down the path- 
way along the ends of the rows. Oscar was tagging along as usual, walking behind me 
in the path. I hesitated a bit to admire a magnificent spike of Connecticut Yankee; just 
three florets open and right on the end of the row. A protecting stake had been set 
at the end of the row, but it was a tomato stake with cross arms. Oscar did not overlook 
this opportunity. As I turned*to look for other beauties, she promptly hopped up ons 
the perch so conveniently placed to reach the florets. I took about three steps and 
turning slightly, saw Oscar on the perch and reaching for the flowers. Before I could 
yell Oscar, she had done her work—emasculated the two lower florets in no time at 
all. The only error she made was to take the pistil along with the stamens, but not a 
petal was touched. I could not blame her much, there was a handy perch, and how 
was she to know | was thinking of taking that spike to the ower show? 

WE SING A DUET; A LOVE LADY OSCAR,. THE INVETERATE IN- 
SONG, OR WOULD YOU VESTIGATOR, EXAMINES OUR 
BELIEVE IT? CHEATERS 
