He put it between the
breadths of matting, and then began to pound on
it as usual. Pretty soon he hit the unburnt end
and it went off with a loud crack, as parlor
matches do. Poor Jakie jumped two feet into the
air, nearly frightened out of his wits; and I was
frightened, too, for I feared he might set the
house on fire.
Often when I got up from my chair a shower of
the bird's playthings would fall from his various
hiding-places about my dress,--nails, matches,
shoe-buttons, bread-crumbs, and other things.
Then he had to begin his work all over again.
Jakie liked a small ball or a marble. His game
was to give it a hard peck and see it roll. If it
rolled away from him, he ran after it and pecked
again; but sometimes it rolled toward him, and
then he bounded into the air as if he thought it
would bite. And what was funny, he was always
offended at this conduct of the ball, and went off
sulky for a while.
He was a timid little fellow. Wind or storm
outside the windows made him wild. He would
fly around the room, squawking at the top of his
voice; and the horrible tin horns the boys liked to
blow at Thanksgiving and Christmas drove him
frantic.
Once I brought a Christmas tree into the room
to please the birds, and all were delighted with it
except my poor little blue jay, who was much
afraid of it.
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