The tiniest of oui- winter resident are 

 GOLDEN-CROWNED KINGLETS, — lit- 

 tle mites but four inches in length; 

 scarcely bigger than hummingbirds yet 

 capable of enduring our most severe 

 cold weather. Some of them wander 

 through cities and towns gleaning a 

 scanty fare of insect eggs and pupae 

 from shrubs and trees, but the major- 

 ity pass tlie winter in pines where they 

 can obtain much better slielter. 



The voice of this species corresponds 

 to its size, — just a faint, high-pitched 

 "tsip," audible but a few yards away. 

 In spring and summer they utter a 

 queer little song consisting of half a 

 dozen very slirill, high-pitched notes 

 and ending in a short warbling, — a song 

 that would suggest a warbler but that 

 is very different from that of any of 

 our warblers. 



Their nests are ratlier bulky, semi- 

 pensile structures of twigs, mosses, 

 rootlets and feathers in coniferous 

 trees. The interior is so deep that noth- 

 ing can be seen of the sitting bird. 



resembling that of any other bird. The Veery nest is made 

 of stripes of bark and dead leaves^ on the ground or within 

 a few inches of it. The four deep blue eggs are almost 

 constantly covered by the little mother for well she knows 

 that while they might attract the attention of passers by, 

 her colors so harmonize with the surrounding leaves that 

 there is little danger of her discovery. 



With the exception of Robins and Bluebirds, all thrushes 

 are rather timid, shy and retiring, prefering deep woods 

 rather than the open. For this reason it is difficult to posi- 

 tively recognize some of the less common species as they 

 pass through on their biannual pilgrimages. 



On cold wintry days, should we venture into the woods, 

 tiny lisping voices may greet us from the dense tops of pine 

 trees. The authors are difficult to discover but if we per- 

 severe we will make them out to be wee little birds scarcely 

 bigger than the thumb, by name Golden-crowned Kinglets. 

 If we chirp to them we may arouse their curiosity enough 

 to bring them down where we can get a good look at them. 

 How can such tiny mites keep the spark of life aglow when 

 the mercury is hovering below Zero? 



Another 'little Kinglet, the RUBY-CROWNED, is wiser 



