Mr. Blue Jay winced for a second, for it is not pleasant to find one's self hated, by all his fellow kind. "I'll swear," said he, lifting up one foot solemnly, "that I have not been near the Mourning Dove's nest this season." "Nor the Red-eyed Vireo's?" "Nor the Red-eyed Vireo's," affirmed Mr. Blue Jay, slightly closing one eye, and coughing behind his foot. "Oh, oh, oh!" chorused a dozen voices, "we saw him around there this very morning." "And I," said a Bluebird, "saw him destroy the eggs in Mrs. Mourning Dove's nest, myself." "So," sternly said Mr. Kingbird, "the rascal adds perjury to his other crimes. It is the duty of every honest citizen of the woods and orchards to rid the world of such a villain. Defend yourself, Mr. Jay, or----" At this moment a loud and vehement "_Zeay, ze-a-y_," broke in upon Mr. Kingbird's speech. "Ah! Mr. Catbird," said he, his crest suddenly falling, "I think, I--will attend to this case another time," and much to the disappointment of the assembled crowd Mr. Kingbird took wing and flew away. No sooner was he gone than Mr. Blue Jay nearly doubled himself up with laughter. "I thought that would make his feathers fall," he said, resuming his braggart manner. "I have noticed how quickly he gets out of the way of Mr. Catbird, though he will fight a Hawk, or a Crow, or even an Eagle. He! he! he! I imitated Mr. Catbird very well, didn't I?" and the rogue, to show his powers of mimicry, cried _Zeay, ze-a-y_, again, then _Caw, caw_, like a Crow, meowed like a cat, barked like a dog, crowed like a Rooster, and finished with a loud, harsh _Kee-oo, kee-oo_, which put all the birds to flight. "The Red-shouldered Hawk," they one and all cried with frightened glances into the air, and Mrs. Wren, forgetting for the moment that it was only Mr. Jay imitating Mr. Hawk, flew over to her nest in the greatest consternation. "Well, well," she said afterward with a laugh, "it was 'much ado about nothing' after all. But what a clever fellow that Mr. Jay is to be sure! Really I cannot help but admire him, rogue though he is," and with a pretty flutter of her wings Mrs. Wren gathered the six speckled treasures under her breast and sat down to brood. "I don't see how you could have covered more than six eggs, my dear," said Mr. Wren tenderly. "You are such a little body, you know. Mrs. John last year, though, had ten in one brood, did she not?" "Yes," sniffed Mrs. Wren, "and her neighbors have never heard the last of it. Such a gossip and braggart as she is. Why, she tells every lady bird that calls on her that her Mr. Wren had three furnished houses when he proposed to her; one in a knothole of an apple tree, one on top of a _very_ high pole, and the other--well, really I forget; under the roof of a meeting house, I believe." "Hm!" said Mr. Wren, turning up his bill, "that's the reason she accepted him, I suppose. To my notion he is a most unattractive fellow, ugly as he is proud."