IN THE ICE-CLAD WOODS. 155 



as familiar and engaging were tlie crested tits, or 

 chickadees, tliough they did not behave in the 

 same way. It is true, thiey sometimes clung 

 to the upriglit trunks and branches, and now 

 and then even ambled upward a few feet, but 

 they are naturally perchers, not creepers. What 

 surprised me on that day was the skill and ease 

 with which they flitted about among the twigs, 

 grasping the icy perches with their bare little 

 claws as if they were not cold or slippery. Very 

 seldom did they lose their footing, though such 

 a mishap would sometimes occur, when a bird 

 miscalculated his distance, or flew to a branch 

 that was too large for his claws to twine around. 

 Then he would slip, and there would follow an 

 amusinof scramble for another foothold. 



Several of these hardy winter birds seemed 

 to enjoy prancing around on the snow-covered 

 ground. One of them made a pretty picture 

 as he crept into a small tuft of grass to find 

 a tidbit of some kind, only his flicking tail 

 vN^hich extended out of the aperture, being 

 visible. He made me think of an Eskimo 

 creeping on all fours into his snow hut, and I 

 could not help wishing an artist were there 

 to paint the picture from life. I do not wish 

 to seem conceited, but it seems to me that art- 

 ists do not do justice to the birds, because they 



