678 ANNUAL REPORT OF THE Off. Doc. 



comiiioii supposition. It was only after 1 had observed tlie funny 

 little fellow, with his Mack cap and throat, white cheeks aiid nimble 

 habit of climbing' and hanging to the tree twigs, that I caugiit him 

 one cold morning singing, as he earned his daily fare, "chickadee, 

 chiek-a-dee-dee," in the most cheery way imaginable, and so rapidly. 

 One cannot recognize a bird song from a book or from a friendly 

 description, until one has placed in his mind both the bird and the 

 song. 



If everything goes wrong, and my temper is somewhat uncertain, 

 nothing docs so much good as a visit from the tin}' winter wren. He 

 appears suddenly from, no one knows where, and alights on the 

 ivy covered wall. He hides behind a leaf (such a little leaf), very 

 unconcernedly, and then peeps to see if I am still about. Convinced 

 at length of my friendly intentions, he mounts to the top of a leaf- 

 less rosebush, and favors me with a strain that wins my heart. Dis- 

 turbed in his rehearsal by the appearance of Maltese Teddy, whose 

 taste as an ei)icure he knows full well, he e-tops without ceremony, 

 takes refuge on the lowest branch of a huge hemlock, and proceeds 

 to berate my favorite puss in terms which I can only applaud, and 

 which lessens neither in tone nor volume till Teddy and I have 

 beaten a retreat. 



Hemlock trees afford a safe refuge for many of our birds, and lucky 

 is the bird lover if such trees grew near his house. During very cold 

 weather he might make the acquaintance of the pine siskin, a pretty, 

 brownish bird, small as a sparrow and with buffy wing bars. Or 

 American crossbills, large and brownish red, noticeable for their 

 crossed bills. These birds love the little cones on such trees, and 

 during a cold snap last winter, a flock tarried close to the house 

 some days, showing no fear. 



One can frequently see more birds in an hour from a window, than 

 in a day's walk. I have often wondered when I have seen a flock of 

 birds, what kind of a meeting they are holding. It is mostly too 

 noisy for farmers institutes, and too quiet for a State Legislature, 

 but it is always something very interesting tliey are discussing. The 

 fact that ladies get a word in now and then, leads me to believe in 

 the farmers' institute theory, and then again, I think maybe bird 

 law makers agree that the feminine mind can fathom affairs of the 

 nation, as well as affairs of the kitchen and the heart. In that case 

 the bird legislature differs widely from other kinds of legislatures. 



I am not naming all of our winter birds, but I must not close with- 

 out a brief reference to the crow. To me it seems as if he were omni- 

 present. At any hour of the day one may see or hear him, and his 

 harsh "caw, caw," always sounds the better for its distance. The 

 crow is — well he is the crow; he needs no description. It takes no 

 close student of bird lore to recognize him. Independent, numerous, 

 lawless, he camps down on the farmer's fields with all the assurance 

 of a relative. Like the blue jay, another winter bird, finer in plum- 

 age than voice, lie is a thief, and cares little who knows it. The 

 blue jay proves the correctness of the old adage, "fine feathers do 

 not make fine birds." If the blue jay and the crow could vote, tliey 

 would not probably vote for the interests of the farmer; but that 

 is not why they don't. They can't, you see, just as some others do 

 not, who are old enough, I think, even if they do not admit it. 



