CHICK, D.D. 



middle, and find a good tasty bit to start with, and then 

 he would feel about in other parts of the cone for small 

 insects, which often creep into such places for the winter. 

 The flight to the willows was full of courage. Surely 

 there would be a breakfast there for a hungry Chick ! 



But the ice was so heavy on the willows that it had 

 bent them down till the tips lay frozen into the crust 

 below. 



So from pantry to pantry Chick flew that morning, 

 and every single one of them had been locked tight with 

 an icy key. The day was very cold. Soon after the ice- 

 storm, the mercury in the thermometer over at the 

 Farm-House had dropped way down below the zero 

 mark, and the wind was in the north. But the cold did 

 not matter if Chick could find food. His feet were bare; 

 but that did not matter, either, if he could eat. Nothing 

 mattered to the brave little black-capped fellow, except 

 that he was hungry, oh, so hungry! and he had heard no 

 call from any^vhere to tell him that any other bird had 

 found a breakfast, either. 



No, the birds were all quiet, and the distant church- 

 bells had stopped their chimes, and the world was still. 

 Still, except for the click of the icicles on the twigs when 

 Chick or the wind shook them. 



Then, suddenly, there was a sound so big and deep 

 that it seemed to fill all the space from the white earth 



7 



