to assume. That it has something answering

to our "parts of speech" we may almost take for granted. It could scarcely be intelligible—as it assuredly is—if some words did not express action, others things, and still others quality. Verbs, substantives, adjectives, and adverbs,—these, at least, all real language must possess. The jay tongue has them, I would warrant, in rudimentary forms, but in good number and of clearly defined significance.

Jays are natural orators; for among birds, as among men, there are "diversities of operations." "All species are not equally eloquent," said Gilbert White. And the same capable naturalist made another shrewd remark, which I would commend to the man, whoever he may be, who shall undertake the jay-English dictionary that I have been desiderating. "The language of birds," said White, "is very ancient, and, like other ancient modes of speech, very elliptical; little is said, but much is meant and understood."

The blue jay, I am confident, though I do not profess to be a jay scholar, makes a large use of interjections. This will constitute one