In ‘A Tramp Abroad’, Mark Twain recalled how a Californian miner had once waxed lyrical over the articulate chatter of bluejays. Their talk, he confided seriously, was of a purer kind than other animals’, even the cat’s; for in moments of stress feline grammar broke down completely, whereas the jay took an almost human pride in clear self-expression.

The bluejay’s command of language, continued the miner, was as human as his moral failings, which were as low as any man in Washington’s; and here again, the bluejay had the dubious privilege of being more human than the cat. But the most human thing about the bluejay was his self-awareness, for he knew himself for what he was.

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