Birds can be as capable of cheating, not only each other, but other animals. A crow, belonging to John Smedley, a resident of Lima, Pa., was an adept in the business. When dinner was preparing, he would fly around the corner of the house, set up a terrific cawing as though in great distress, and when the mistress of the house, with whom he was a great favorite, would come out on a tour of investigation, the rascally bird would elude her and manage to steal round to the table in the opposite direction and seize what food suited him the best, which he would carry to the top of the house, where he would eat it at his leisure. No persuasions would induce him to come down, for he knew that such action was a breach of the peace, and he was fearful of the punishment, that of confinement to a cage, which would follow. When, however, he felt assured that his mistress had forgiven the wrong-doing, he would fly down to the porch, and do his utmost to convince her that he was a well-meaning bird, and that he was thoroughly ashamed of his actions. But there was one member of the family that utterly detested the bird. It was the dog Rover. Many a trick had the bird practised upon the latter, especially at meal time. Poor Rover was not allowed to eat in peace. When he would be wholly absorbed in his dinner, the crow would approach him in the rear, give him a severe twirl of the tail, and then in a twinkling fly to one side, looking the very picture of innocence. But ere the dog had recovered his self-possession and was ready to resume his feeding again, the bird had captured the daintiest morsel, and was off to the tree-top. Discomfited and outwitted, the dog would rush to the base of the tree, bark his growls of anger and defiance, while the crow would look quizzically down from above, and chuckle with delight.