entence, which closes his
valuable monograph: "In fact, the examination of nearly three hundred
stomachs shows that the blue jay does far more good than harm."

An important question, therefore, from more than one point of view is:
Should we ever kill the blue jay? Perhaps as sensible an answer to
that question as can be given is this: We should by no means engage in
a war of extermination upon the jays, but it might be wise, when they
become too abundant, to thin out their numbers somewhat by shooting
some of them or driving them away. It can scarcely be denied that if
they are permitted to thrive without hindrance, and grow to large
numbers, they will become sorely destructive of the eggs and nestlings
of more desirable birds. I assure you, however, that I make this
statement with reluctance and reserve, for the handsome blue-coat is
one of our most cunning and interesting birds, and would be greatly
missed if he were exterminated.

The blue jay is also a plucky bird, as I discovered one day not so very
long ago. A pair of jays had a nest in a little park in front of my
house, and one day one of the youngsters, which were still unable to
fly, dropped to the ground. Fearing the cats or evilly disposed boys
might catch the little fellow, I thought to do him and his parents a
good turn by catching him and putting him up in one of the trees beyond
the reach of his enemies. After quite a chase I succeeded in catching
him. But the parent birds, flitting and calling in the trees, did not
understand my well-meant intentions, and so one of them swung down and
struck me on the top of the head with so much force that, either with
his bill or his claws; he punctured the skin and made the blood come,
leaving a scar on my crown for quite a while. The pesky thing! I
think he might have known that I was his friend--but he didn't, his
instinct not being a sure guide that time. But who can blame him? Not
an hour afterwards the youngling again fell to the ground, when some
children found it and killed it without the least excuse for their
action. In such a case how could the parent birds distinguish between
friend and foe? They found their little one lying dead on the ground,
and mourned for it with heart-broken cries.

Some things cause a great to-do in the jay world. One day, while I was
living in Kansas, the skeleton of a jay, with the feathers still
attached, was found in the rubbish of an ash-pile in my rear yard, a