On one occasion Mr. Leander Keyser’s several cages of birds
were moved from one porch to another on the other side of the
house. The jay’s cage, being too big for the new quarters,
was left behind, when at once the bird began to express his
dissatisfaction and loneliness. All day he rushed about his
cage, calling in the most pitiful way. The next morning he was
no more reconciled, and showed so plainly by every look and
motion his unhappiness that a place was made for him near the
others. The moment he saw them he gave a cry of delight, his
calls ceased, he chirped and twittered, and was his happy self
again.--OLIVE THORNE MILLER, “The Bird Our Brother.”
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