There are few birds that equal the Crow in sagacity.  He observes many things that would seem to require the faculties of a rational being.  He judges with accuracy, from the deportment of the person approaching him, if he is prepared to do him an injury; and seems to pay no regard to one who is strolling the fields in search of flowers or for recreation.  On such occasions, one may get so near him as to observe his manners, and even to note the varying shades of his plumage.  But in vain does the sportsman endeavor to approach him.  So sure is he to fly at the right moment for his safety, that one might suppose he could measure the distance of gunshot.

The voice of the Crow is like no other sound uttered by the feathered race; it is harsh and unmelodious, and though he is capable, when domesticated, of imitating human speech, he cannot sing.  But Aesop mistook the character of this bird when he represented him as the dupe of the fox, who gained the bit of cheese he carried in his mouth by inducing him to exhibit his musical powers.  The Crow could not be fooled by any such appeals to his vanity.

The Crow is commonly regarded as a homely bird; yet he is not without beauty.  His coat of glossy black with violet reflections, his dark eyes and sagacious expression of countenance, his stately and graceful gait, and his steady and equable flight, combine to give him a proud and dignified appearance.  The Crow and the Raven have always been celebrated for their gravity, a character that seems to be the result of their black sacerdotal vesture, and of certain manifestations of intelligence in their ways and general deportment.  Indeed, any one who should watch the motions of the Crow for the space of five minutes, either when he is stalking alone in the field, or when he is careering with his fellows around some tall tree in the forest, would acknowledge that he deserves to be called a grave bird.

Setting aside the services rendered by the Crow to agriculture, I esteem him for certain qualities which are agreeably associated with the charms of Nature.  It is not the singing-birds alone that contribute by their voices to gladden the husbandman and cheer the solitary traveller.  The crowing of the Cock at the break of day is as joyful a sound, though not so musical, as the voice of the Robin who chants his lays at the same early hour.  To me the cawing of the Crow is cheering and delightful, and it is heard long before the majority of birds have left their perch.  If not one of the melodies of morn, it is one of the most notable sounds that herald its approach.  And how intimately is the voice of this bird associated with the sunshine of calm winter-days,—­with our woodland excursions during this inclement season,—­with the stroke of the woodman’s axe,—­with open doors in bright and pleasant weather, when the eaves are dripping with the melting snow,—­and with all those cheerful sounds that enliven the groves during that period when every object is valuable that relieves the silence or softens the dreary aspect of Nature!