tent
in it all, they thought. Finally a dog carried off the bone, and the
crows ceased to visit the tree.

* * * * *

From my boyhood I have seen the yearly meeting of the crows in September
or October, on a high grassy hill or a wooded ridge. Apparently, all
the crows from a large area assemble at these times; you may see them
coming, singly or in loose bands, from all directions to the rendezvous,
till there are hundreds of them together. They make black an acre or two
of ground. At intervals they all rise in the air, and wheel about, all
cawing at once. Then to the ground again, or to the tree-tops, as the
case may be; then, rising again, they send forth the voice of the
multitude. What does it all mean? I notice that this rally is always
preliminary to their going into winter quarters. It would be interesting
to know just the nature of the communication that takes place between
them.

THE CROW

I

My friend and neighbor through the year,
Self-appointed overseer

Of my crops of fruit and grain,
Of my woods and furrowed plain,

Claim thy tithings right and left,
I shall never call it theft.

Nature wisely made the law,
And I fail to find a flaw

In thy title to the earth,
And all it holds of any worth.

I like thy self-complacent air,
I like thy ways so free from care,

Thy landlord stroll about my fields,
Quickly noting what each yields;

Thy courtly mien and bearing bold,
As if thy claim were bought with gold;

Thy floating shape against the sky,
When days are calm and clouds are high;

Thy thrifty flight ere rise of sun,
Thy homing clans when day is done.

Hues protective are not thine,
So sleek thy coat each quill doth shine.

Diamond black to end of toe,
Thy counterpoint the crystal snow.

II

Never plaintive nor appealing,
Quite at home when thou art stealing,

Always groomed to tip of feather,
Calm and trim in every weather,

Morn till night my woods policing,
Every sound thy watch increasing.

Hawk and owl in tree-top hiding
Feel the shame of thy deriding.

Naught escapes thy observation,
None but dread thy accusation.

III

Hunters, prowlers, woodland lovers
Vainly seek the leafy covers.

Noisy, scheming, and predacious,
With demeanor almost gracious,

Dowered with leisur