THE BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE 319 



year. There is really no excuse for killing a chickadee, for 

 it not only cheers us on a cold, wintry day, but is always 

 our friend and helper. And it is so small that no one 

 could possibly have any use for it for the table. 



As soon as we have the first suggestion of spring, usually 

 in February, the chickadee begins singing a new song, a 

 very sweet "Phoe-e-bee," not at all like the jerky song of 

 the phoebe bird, but to my mind much more like the 

 word. The little call is so seductive that it is no wonder 

 it never fails to win the singer a bride. When she ap- 

 pears, the singer finds that he has several other notes he 

 can perform, especially a catchy yodel of delight. 



When nesting time comes they hunt up an abandoned 

 hole made by a woodpecker or a nuthatch, or a natural 

 cavity, or if none is handy, dig one for themselves in a 

 decaying tree, and line it well with moss, fur, feathers, or 

 other soft material. This hole is seldom ten feet from the 

 ground and is often in an old fence post. They lay as 

 many as eight white eggs, lightly speckled with reddish 

 or lilac brown spots. 



