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  • We went on through the trees toward the caves -- an excited and disorderly mob that drove before it to their holes all the small life of the forest, and that set the blue-jays screaming impudently.


  • Crested blue-jays darted through the dark pines, squirrels in hundreds scampered through the forest, red dragon-flies flashed like

    A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains

  • I saw a beautiful white fox, several skunks, some chipmunks and gray squirrels, owls, crows, and crested blue-jays.

    A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains

  • Then the peaks fade, and when morning is no longer “spread upon the mountains,” the pines are mirrored in my lake almost as solid objects, and the glory steals downwards, and a red flush warms the clear atmosphere of the park, and the hoar-frost sparkles and the crested blue-jays step forth daintily on the jewelled grass.

    A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains

  • It sounded trivial as the bragging of blue-jays, but I interpreted carefully and kept the different headings in mind.


  • The blue-jays, martins and mocking birds render a trip to the Paris Exposition entirely unnecessary, if one wishes to hear all parties talk at the same moment and in unintelligible syllables.

    The American Missionary — Volume 43, No. 10, October, 1889

  • I heard the twitter of skimming swallows and the scattered covey's piping call; I heard the robin's gay whistle, the croaking of crows, the scolding of blue-jays, and the melancholy cooing of a dove.

    Gov. Bob. Taylor's Tales

  • And there stood Luigi, having deposited his tray of images on the steps, holding up a long string of birds'-eggs blown, tiny varicolored globes plundered from the thrushes, bobolinks, blue-jays, and cedar-birds, and trembling upon the thread as if their concrete melody quivered to open into tune.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 84, October, 1864

  • There were blue-jays all about us, making the woods ring with their querulous cries, and a single fish-hawk screamed from the blue overhead, as he sailed round and round, watching the chances of a supper in the lake.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, No. 14, December 1858

  • All summer long she had been rejoicing in the glory of the landscape about her, in the glowing fern and the wild-flowers underfoot, and in the boundless canopy of green above, with its unresting song-birds; now there were only the shrill cries of a pair of blue-jays to be heard, and every puff of wind that came brought down

    King Midas: a Romance


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