an of
the forest and a terror to all evil-doers.

In size he was nearly as big as Jim Crow himself, and he had a large
crest of feathers on the top of his head that made him look even more
fierce--especially when he ruffled them up. His body was purplish blue
color on the back and purplish gray below, and there was a collar of
black feathers running all around his neck. But his wings and tail were
a beautiful rich blue, as delightful in color as the sky on a fine May
morning; so in personal appearance Policeman Blue Jay was much handsomer
than Jim Crow. But it was the sharp, stout beak that most alarmed the
crow, and had Jim been wiser he would have known that before him was the
most deadly foe of his race, and that the greatest pleasure a Blue Jay
finds in life is to fight with and punish a crow.

But Jim was not very wise; and so he imagined, after his first terror
had passed away, that he could bully this bird as he had the others, and
make it fear him.

"Well, what are you doing here?" he called out, in his crossest voice,
for he was anxious to get away and rob the oriole's nest.

The Blue Jay gave a scornful, chattering laugh as he answered:

"That's none of your business, Jim Crow."

"Take care!" warned the crow; "you'll be sorry if you don't treat me
with proper respect."

The Blue Jay winked solemnly, in a way that would have been very comical
to any observer other than the angry crow.

"Don't hurt me--please don't!" he said, fluttering on the branch as if
greatly frightened. "My mother would feel dreadful bad if anything
happened to me."

"Well, then, behave yourself," returned the crow, strutting proudly
along a limb and flopping his broad wings in an impressive manner. For
he was foolish enough to think he had made the other afraid.

But no sooner had he taken flight and soared into the air than the Blue
Jay darted at him like an arrow from a bow, and before Jim Crow could
turn to defend himself the bill of his enemy struck him full in the
breast. Then, with a shriek of shrill laughter, the policeman darted
away and disappeared in the forest, leaving the crow to whirl around in
the air once or twice and then sink slowly down, with some of his own
torn feathers floating near him as witnesses to his defeat.

The attack had dazed and astonished him beyond measure; but he found he
was not much hurt, after all. Crows are tougher than most birds. Jim
managed to reach one of the brooks, where he bathed