Tt iteeon Ue aL Bi eNte Bi Ui Mele N 11 
critically, but much prefers to hunt on the ground and under leaves for 
what he wants. 
The grackles give way only to the sudden and swift descent of a blue 
jay or red-headed woodpecker. All of them have atrocious table manners. 
They are all greedy, selfish, and gobble while they gabble. It is hopeless 
to expect reform as long as the world is a battle ground, to them, for food. 
Just now the situation is intensified by the large number of families grow- 
ing up about here. Competition is fierce and that is always hard on manners 
or morals. A grackle couple after making many trips from the counter to 
their nest brought four rusty young ones to the board where, side by side 
and ankle deep in food, the parents stuffed them full. 
You will discover the fact, Intuitive One, and I may as well admit it: 
I detest grackles from the cradle to the grave. In asking for food the 
young ones act as if their collars were too tight and make a noise as if 
they were choking to death. This is harrowing even when I know the noise 
is in the cause of life and not death. They have a cruel yellow eye stuck 
on their heads like buttons and there is no music in their selfish souls. 
They are natural born thieves and I have no doubt they lie in their trans- 
actions with each other. Their very name is untrue for they pose as black- 
birds and they are not black. I will say for the father that his irridescent 
necktie is beautiful, but not another good thing about the grackle will I 
admit. 
In the spring he is the farmer’s friend; in the autumn he is an enemy. 
When the Doctor plows the orchard a long procession of grackles follow 
sedately in the furrow behind him picking up myriads of grubs and worms; 
but the last one never remains last for fear he is missing something. He 
flies to the front for the first chance at the choice morsels, and the next 
one in the rear does the same like children going to the head of a 
spelling class. 
With the beginning of small fruits until corn is ripe, the grackles help 
themselves without reserve. As they are clannish and always go in large 
flocks, their depredations are all the more concerted and effectual. When 
a grackle carries anything away from the table he invariably selects the 
biggest thing in sight and utters a sharp “check,” which would lead one to 
think he had a meal ticket and wanted it punched. 
The most disreputable patron I have is a bald-headed grackle of un- 
certain age. His yellow eye on the side of his skinny head gives him the 
appearance of having run the entire gamut of hfe. But for all of his 
meanness, I am willing to give the grackle credit for being smart. Only a 
smart bird would know enough to soak a crust of bread in water. As I 
stood watching one of the little pools, down came a grackle with a large 
erust of hard bread in his beak; he dropped it in the edge of the pool and 
kept one claw on it while he looked around as if to say, “Nothing doing; 
just soaking my feet.” When the bread was soft he ate part of it and flew 
away with the rest. Grackles carry from the counter an unbroken cracker, 
while every other bird will pick it to pieces. 
One of my most welcome callers at lunch is bob-white, who is a perfect 
gentleman; so is his wife. They do not hop on the table and wade in the 
