The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1886-02-24

once discovered that she was, harmless, he
became devoted to her, and followed her
about everywhere, perching upon, her head
or shoulder with an air of touching, conf
dence. He seemed 10 be saying, ave under
stand each other, (" in all his intercourse with
the family. Even when his master had. q
gun in his hand, Jim showed no fear. The
gun might be discharged dozen times and
Jim might. witness, close at hand, its deadly
effects, but so long rs his friends were shoot
ing, Jim seemed 20 know that he should not
be hurt.
Jim's pan of water stood close Ibeside the
pump, and was usually renewed by each
person who came near; for Jim, so far from
being uncleanly, as birds of his race are some
times supposed to be, was scrupulously neat,
and a most persevering bather. When his
pan had been renewed, and he. had drank
his breakfast. When this consisted of
crusts, as it often did, he usually
soaked them in his pan,. until they
were soft. One day he caught an enor-
nous grasshopper. and evidently found it
too hard to make a good meal, so he pa
tiently soaked it for some time, hoping APP
parently that the tough morsel might grow
tenderer. His disgust was very amusing,
when. after repeated soakings Mr.. Grass
hopper remained as tough as ever. Jim
scolded at him hoarsely, and finally threw
him away in pet.
He had equally hard luck with a small
toad, which also stubbornly refused to
soften, after Jim had held him under water
for long time.
Oh, if jim could only have talked, what
remarks he would have made! Talking
crows are not unknown, and had the little
muscle beneath Jim's tongue been severed
when he was very young, he would I'M
doubtedly have been able to say something,
for that he had plenty of ideas no one could
doubt. His efforts to articulate were patent
to all his attendants. If ever anybody tried
to talk. it was Jim Crow.
AS the time approached for the family to
return to the city, the question presented
Itself, what should be done with Jim? He
did not like any of the neighbors, and would
not probably stay with them. He would
die if left to himself, having never fratern-
lied with his kindred, and being unused to
providing for his own wants. Clearly, he
must go to New York. So lathe house was
fitted up for him in the of the Review
building In Lafayette Place, and the colored
janitor, although he insisted that he hadn't
no use" for him, was pressed into Jim's SER
vice.
He passed very comfortable winter. Once
he escaped through a window which had
carelessly been left open, and disappeared
from view, but call from his anxious young
master, who, from the top of the Review
building detected his truant pet wandering
in bewildered way in an adjoining yard,
caught Jim's ear at once, and stretching his
beautiful, glossy wings joyfully, he flew
upward, and perched upon his master
shoulder.
1t was we'll into April, and the precautions
which had been taken during the winter to
shield the cherished pet from the weather,
had been somewhat relaxed, when a terribly
cold night came, and Jim Crow was seized
with pneumonia. He was attended faithfully
and everything that love and skill could sug-
gest was done for him. His speaking eyes
pleaded affectionately with his friends for
relief, but nothing seemed to help him. His
step became more and more uncertain, and
his bright eyes grew dull and hlmy. At last
he fell quite off his perch, and dear little
Jim Crow was dead.
1t almost seemed as though human life
had gone out.
He was buried in a paper casket under a
wide-spreading tree in the rear of the Review
building, where his grave is marked by a
wooden cross, inscribed with the name, "Jim
Crow"