XXXVIII.

ANYTHING WORSE THAN A BLUE-JAY? HARDLY!

If there is anything worse than a blue-jay, name it. Perhaps a mannish
woman, with a shrill voice and a waspish tongue, is as bad, but she
can't be worse. There are something less than a hundred of these
feathered hornets dwelling in the grove that surrounds my house, and
they began before sunrise to call names and fight clamorous battles.
One of them starts the row by crying something in the ear of a
neighbor, which sounds like a challenge blown through a fish horn. At
this the insulted neighbor flops down off the tree where he lives, and
says naughty words very thick and very fast. Then five or six old
ladies poke their heads over the sides of their nests and call
"Police!" A squad of bluecoats comes tearing ever the border and
attacks the original culprit. He whips out his fish horn and summons a
general uprising. Very soon there is a battle royal, to which the old
ladies add zest by squeaking out dire threats in shrill falsetto voices
pitched at high "C." This keeps up until somebody arises and declaims
from my open window, dancing meanwhile in helpless rage, to see how
futile is the voice of august man when blue-jays hold the floor. Talk
about the English sparrow! It is a mild-mannered little gentleman
compared to the noisy jay. Its politeness and amiability are
Chesterfieldan beside the behavior of its handsomely attired but
boorish neighbor. And as for fighting, why, I verily believe a bluejay
in good condition could "do up" John L. Sullivan so quickly the gentle
pugilist would never know what struck him.