Chickadee. 61 



the call of a lonesome chickadee issuing from a small tree 

 in an adjoining yard. Though I could not at once per- 

 ceive the author of the notes, I vigorously and regularly 

 whistled in response. Soon the call was uttered nearer to 

 me, and as I passed on my way the little creature flitted 

 from tree to tree after me. When I reached the school 

 grounds, I stopped under a small tree, and in response to 

 my whistling the confiding wanderer flew into the tree, 

 hopping joyfully from twig to twig, in hopeful anticipa- 

 tion of congenial companionship. Soon I ceased to re- 

 spond to his friendly good-mornings, and walked away 

 from the tree. At once he changed his tone to a sweet 

 minor, so expressive of disappointment and loneliness that 

 fellow teachers who had witnessed the closing scenes im- 

 mediately noted the sudden modulation, and censured me 

 with the remark : " Why, you ought to be ashamed of 

 yourself to mislead the lonely little fellow, when he ex- 

 pected to find a companion. Just hear how disappointedly 

 he calls! " 



Birds come and go, but the chickadee we have always 

 with us. No blast is severe enough to drive it from our 

 door-yards, and in the face of the falling snow its " dee- 

 dee-dee-dee-dee " comes to our ears as we sit in our cozy 

 rooms longing for the spring sunshine. Even on those 

 dreariest of rainy winter days, whose steady drizzle 

 would be supposed to check the activity of even the most 

 venturesome of the feathered residents — days whose dull- 

 ness causes us to con our old note-books in memory of 

 brighter scenes — we hear the merry " chickadee purrt " 

 of our undaunted little visitant. Hastening to the window, 

 we see him in a near apple tree, clinging head downward 

 and tail up, as he pulls a lurking tidbit into the light and 

 quickly devours it. Wiping his bill upon the dripping 

 branch, he chatters his satisfaction, and then hops to a 

 neighboring limb to continue his search for a dinner and 

 supper combined. He then flits across the tree, and per- 

 haps back to the nearer side, occasionally uttering his 

 bright ditty — always contented, come rain, come snow, 

 and consequently always joyous. 



While the chickadees are essentially birds of the wood- 

 land, they are by no means rare in our towns; for trees 



