CHICKADEE. 1 47 



familiarly for their lurking prey, and are particularly fond of 

 spiders and the eggs of destructive moths, especially those of 

 the canker-worm, which they greedily destroy in all its stages 

 of existence. It is said that they sometimes attack their own 

 species when the individual is sickly, and aim their blows at 

 the skull with a view to eat the brain ; but this barbarity I have 

 never witnessed. In winter, when satisfied, they will descend 

 to the snow-bank beneath and quench their thirst by swallow- 

 ing small pieces ; in this way their various and frugal meal is 

 always easily supplied ; and hardy, and warmly clad in light 

 and very downy feathers, they suffer little inconvenience from 

 the inclemency of the seasons. Indeed in the winter, or about 

 the close of October, they at times appear so enlivened as 

 already to show their amorous attachment, like our domestic 

 cock, the male approaching his mate with fluttering and vibra- 

 ting wings ; and in the spring season, the males have obstinate 

 engagements, darting after each other with great velocity and 

 anger. Their roost is in the hollows of decayed trees, where 

 they also breed, making a soft nest of moss, hair, and feathers, 

 and laying from six to twelve eggs, which are white, with 

 specks of brown-red. They begin to lay about the middle or 

 close of April ; and though they commonly make use of natural 

 or deserted holes of the Woodpecker, yet at times they are 

 said to excavate a cavity for themselves with much labor. The 

 first brood take wing about the yth or loth of June, and they 

 have sometimes a second towards the end of July. The young, 

 as soon as fledged, have all the external marks of the adult, — 

 the head is equally black, and they chatter and skip about 

 with all the agility and self-possession of their parents, who 

 appear nevertheless very solicitous for their safety. From this 

 time the whole family continue to associate together through 

 the autumn and winter. They seem to move by concert from 

 tree to tree, keeping up a continued 'tshe-de-de-de-de, and 'tshe- 

 de-de-de-dait, preceded by a shrill whistle, all the while busily 

 engaged picking round the buds and branches hanging from 

 their extremities and proceeding often in reversed postures, 

 head downwards, like so many tumblers, prying into every 



