THE CHICKADEE 
TuHRouGHOUT the winter, bands of small birds visit the orchards 
and ornamental trees of every village and farm, gleaning dormant 
insects and their eggs from the twigs and boughs. The best known 
member and the leader, apparently, of the company is the Chickadee. 
There are generally about half a dozen of these birds together, pos- 
sibly the parents and young of the preceding summer. The whole 
company are rarely in sight at any one time; some are in one tree, 
some are flying to the next, one perhaps is on the ground. There 
is a constant interchange of lisping call-notes, which break into 
excited gurgles, and the familiar fee, dee, dee, dee, when something 
excites their alarm or curiosity. It is not hard to disturb their 
composure; they come more easily than almost any other bird to 
the squeaking sound that bird students make to attract the attention 
of birds. One fluffy head after another pitches into the tree nearest 
the performer; then, by short stages, the boldest comes nearer to 
the strange sight and sound, often within arm’s length. When their 
curiosity is appeased, they return to their examination of the twigs 
and branches, or, if startled by a sudden movement, they dive into 
the nearest cover. 
Their positions when feeding on slender twigs are extremely 
graceful, and their agility surprising. When gathering sunflower 
seeds, of which they are extremely fond, they cling to the under 
surface of the drooping head and pick till they loosen the seed. 
Then they fly with it to a branch and hammer it open. A favorite 
winter food is the berry of the poison ivy. By tying a bone or 
39 
