e, void of hurry,
Void of fuss and void of worry,

Friendly bandit, Robin Hood,
Judge and jury of the wood,

Or Captain Kidd of sable quill,
Hiding treasures in the hill,

Nature made thee for each season,
Gave thee wit for ample reason,

Good crow wit that's always burnished
Like the coat her care has furnished.

May thy numbers ne'er diminish!
I'll befriend thee till life's finish.

May I never cease to meet thee!
May I never have to eat thee!

And mayest thou never have to fare so
That thou playest the part of scarecrow!

THE NORTHERN SHRIKE

Usually the character of a bird of prey is well defined; there is no
mistaking him. His claws, his beak, his head, his wings, in fact his
whole build, point to the fact that he subsists upon live creatures; he
is armed to catch them and to slay them. Every bird knows a hawk and
knows him from the start, and is on the lookout for him. The hawk takes
life, but he does it to maintain his own, and it is a public and
universally known fact. Nature has sent him abroad in that character,
and has advised all creatures of it. Not so with the shrike; here she
has concealed the character of a murderer under a form as innocent as
that of the robin. Feet, wings, tail, color, head, and general form and
size are all those of a song-bird,--very much like that master songster,
the mockingbird,--yet this bird is a regular Bluebeard among its kind.
Its only characteristic feature is its beak, the upper mandible having
two sharp processes and a sharp hooked point. It usually impales its
victim upon a thorn, or thrusts it in the fork of a limb. For the most
part, however, its food seems to consist of insects,--spiders,
grasshoppers, beetles, etc. It is the assassin of the small birds, whom
it often destroys in pure wantonness, or merely to sup on their brains,
as the Gaucho slaughters a wild cow or bull for its tongue. It is a wolf
in sheep's clothing. Apparently its victims are unacquainted with its
true character and allow it to approach them, when the fatal blow is
given. I saw an illustration of this the other day. A large number of
goldfinches in their fall plumage, together with snowbirds and sparrows,
were feeding and chattering in some low bushes back of the barn. I had
paused by the fence and was peeping through at them, hoping to get a
glimpse of that rare sparrow, the white-crowned. Presently I heard a
rust