CHIPPY. 65 
their mothers poisoned their minds, too, for as 
nearly as I could make out a coldness grew up be- 
tween the families of infants. 
The old chipping birds are very intelligent. 
The turn of the head and the quick glance from 
the eye show that their familiar bravery is due to 
no thoughtless confidence, but is based on keen 
observation and bird wit. 
The young birds seem more trustful and are 
dear fluffy little creatures. When they get to be 
as big as their mothers and know perfectly well 
how to feed themselves, the lazy babies will often 
stand helplessly right in the middle of a handful 
of crumbs, and chirr at their mother till she picks 
the crumbs up and drops them in their bills. 
One day I found a young chippy sitting on the 
picket of a fence. His mother soon flew up onto 
the picket next to him with his dinner in her bill 
and leaned over trying to reach it across. It was 
a comical proceeding, the baby fluttering his 
wings, opening his mouth, crying out and bobbing 
toward his mother while she stretched across till 
—well, both birds came near a tumble before 
they gave it up. 
Chipping birds are always about, in the garden, 
on the lawn, and around the house. The back 
door with its boundless possibilities in the crumb 
line attracts them strongly. At one house, for 
several years, a number of them came to the back 
yard every day when the chickens were fed. They 
