the nest. This was probably an unwise interference; it guided disaster
to the spot; the nest was broken up, and the mother-bird was probably
caught, as I never saw her afterward.

For several previous summers a pair of kingbirds had reared,
unmolested, a brood of young in an apple-tree, only a few yards from
the house; but during this season disaster overtook them also.
The nest was completed, the eggs laid, and incubation had begun,
when, one morning about sunrise, I heard cries of distress and alarm
proceed from the old apple-tree. Looking out of the window I saw a
crow, which I knew to be a fish-crow, perched upon the edge of the
nest, hastily bolting the eggs. The parent birds, usually so ready for
the attack, seemed over-come with grief and alarm. They fluttered
about in the most helpless and bewildered manner, and it was not till
the robber fled on my approach that they recovered themselves and
charged upon him. The crow scurried away with upturned, threatening
head, the furious kingbirds fairly upon his back. The pair lingered
around their desecrated nest for several days, almost silent,
and saddened by their loss, and then disappeared. They probably made
another trial elsewhere.

The fish-crow only fishes when it has destroyed all the eggs and young
birds it can find. It is the most despicable thief and robber among
our feathered creatures. From May to August, it is gorged with the
fledglings of the nest. It is fortunate that its range is so limited.
In size it is smaller than the common crow, and is a much less noble
and dignified bird. Its caw is weak and feminine--a sort of split and
abortive caw, that stamps it the sneak-thief it is. This crow is
common farther south, but is not found in this State, so far as I have
observed, except in the valley of the Hudson.