26 OUR WINTER BIRDS 



world, and the untried wings bear them to a neigh- 

 boring limb. Then you will learn how, with these 

 wings, the migratory species may travel thousands 

 of miles to their winter homes in the tropics and 

 return to us the following spring. 



Best of all, your ears will be opened to the voices 

 of birds. Woods and fields that before seemed silent 

 will now ring with calls and songs. Many have a 

 meaning to the birds that utter them and some day 

 you too may understand them. 



The notes with which Chickadee first makes him- 

 self known seem to us like a greeting. To them 

 he adds some gurgles and chuckles, which we can- 

 not interpret, though they sound very much like the 

 things we should expect Chickadee to say. But we 

 must not form our opinion of Chickadee's char- 

 acter from his everyday conversation. In addition 

 to the calls which have given him his name, he utters 

 also a clear, high whistle of two or three notes. 

 It is so musical, so sad and plaintive, so filled with 

 tender sentiment that it is difficult to believe such a 

 matter-of-fact fellow as Chickedee seems to be can 

 be its author. 



As a boy, I knew the call long before I was aware 

 that it was Chickadee's. When, on a winter's morn- 

 ing, I heard it floating through the woods, I used 

 to fancy that perhaps it was Jack Frost with an 



