ere not then so many
birds to worry him, for most of them went south for the snowy season.
But Jay stayed through the coldest days and enjoyed every chance he had
of pestering Solomon. I don't know that this was because he really
disliked the little owl. Jay was as full of mischief as a crow, and if
the world got to seeming a bit dull, instead of moping and feeling sorry
and waiting for something to happen, Jay looked about for some way of
amusing himself. He was something of a bully,--a great deal of a bully,
in fact,--this dashing rascal in a gay blue coat; and the more he could
swagger, the better he liked it.

He seemed, too, to have very much the same feeling that we mean by joy,
in fun and frolic. There was, perhaps, in the sight of a bird asleep and
listless in broad daylight, something amusing. He was in the habit of
seeing the feather-folk scatter at his approach. If he understood why,
that didn't bother him any. He was used to it, and there is no doubt he
liked the power he had of making his fellow creatures fly around. When
he found, sitting on a branch, with two toes front and two toes back, a
downy puff with big round eyes and a Roman nose and feather-horns
sticking up like the ears of a cat, maybe he was a bit puzzled because
it didn't fly, too. Perhaps he didn't quite know what to make of poor
little Solomon, who, disturbed from his nap, just drew himself up slim
and tall, and remarked, "Oh!" in a sweet high voice.

But, puzzled or not, Jay knew very well what he could do about it. He
had done it so many times before! It was a game he liked. He stood on a
branch, and called Solomon names in loud, harsh tones. He flew around as
if in a terrible temper, screaming at the top of his voice. When he
began, there was not another day bird in sight. Before many minutes, all
the chickadees, nuthatches, and woodpeckers within hearing had arrived,
and had taken sides with Jay. Yes, even sunny-hearted Chick D.D. himself
said things to Solomon that were almost saucy. I never heard that any of
these mobs actually hurt our little friend; but they certainly disturbed
his nap, and there was no peace for him until he slipped away. Where he
went, there was no sound to tell, for his feathers were fringed with
silent down. Perhaps some snow-bowed branch of evergreen gave him
shelter, in a nook where he could see better than the day-eyed birds who
tried to follow and then lost track of him.

So Solomon went on with his nap, a