"I thought I recognized you," he shouted to Mr. Crow. "As soon as I saw you fly past I said to myself, 'That looks like Cousin—'"
Mr. Crow stopped him just in time. It was true that the two were cousins.
One look at their big feet and their big bills would have told you that.
Now, Mr. Crow sometimes saw Jasper on the trips he made each fall and spring. And Jasper knew Mr. Crow's name. He had almost said it, too, at the top of his boisterous voice.
"What's the matter?" Jasper Jay inquired, for Mr. Crow was looking all around. "Have you lost anything?"
"Yes!" said Mr. Crow. "I've lost my name. And I don't want to find it again, either."
What he was really doing was this: He was peering about to see whether anybody might be listening.
Jasper Jay's mouth fell open—he was so astonished.
"Why, what do you mean, Cousin—"
Mr. Crow stopped him again.
"Don't call me that!" he said severely. "I'm known here as 'Mr. Crow.'
And I'll thank you to call me by that name and no other."