blue jays, woodpeckers, shrikes, and the beautiful little mourning doves, the smallest known species, and other varieties less frequently seen—all seemingly have perpetual treaties of peace with the mocking birds. The only one that gets into a "scrap" with the "boss of the forest" is the shrike, a short, chunky little fellow, about the size of the mocking bird, and with a powerful beak with which he delights to impale small animals upon orange thorns. One would suppose that the mocking bird would be in deadly fear of this little feathered bully. Not a bit of it! Other birds may run from the shrike, but he doesn't. Both love to build their nests in the orange trees, and there are frequent questions of "Squatter sovereignty" to be settled by beak and claw. Whether by lung power or muscle, in the final "compromise" the shrike always goes to another tree.
As to the morals of this little past master of song, the truth must be told, he has no respect for the eighth commandment. He is a thief, a cunning, inveterate, unscrupulous "conveyer" of other people's property. Peaches, grapes, strawberries, figs, Japan persimmons, Surinam cherries, Catley guavas, are to him legitimate plunder. With the exception of oranges, bananas, pineapples, and ordinary guavas, which he never touches, nothing is safe from his depredations. Scarecrows don't even amuse him when he has made up his mind to sample fruit. He is a capital judge, too, and always selects the largest, ripest, and most juicy specimens for his repast. No economic considerations trouble him either. He takes a bite here and a nibble there, and ruins twenty times as much as he consumes. Bagging fruit is no protection, for he only tears the bags to pieces and helps himself. Even vines and fig trees incased in mosquito netting are not secure; the little marauder will get in somehow and complacently take what he wants.
Yet, in spite of all this, the benefits received by the south land from this cunning little giver of sweet sounds and lover of sweet fruits vastly outweigh all the damage that he does, however vexatious it may be. Bugs and worms and creeping things swarm here the year round. The mocking bird is essentially insectivorous. His "steady diet" consists of the enemies that the horticulturist and the fruit grower have most occasion to dread. He takes his fruit by way of dessert, and has fairly earned it like a good boy by eating first a substantial dinner.
