The Birds and Poets 243 



tripped about over and under leaves and branches, 

 feeding, but have never yet had the good fortune 

 to have one of them alight on my hand. Dr. 

 Chapman tells of the delight which has come to 

 him from such experiences: 



"On two occasions chickadees have flown down and 

 perched upon my hand. During the few seconds they 

 remained there I became rigid with the emotion of this 

 novel experience. It 'was a mark of confidence which 

 seemed to initiate me into the ranks of woodland 

 dwellers."* 



They nest in old woodpecker holes, which they 

 fill with the finest down. The tiny eggs are white, 

 marked with beautiful cinnamon brown spots, and 

 triere are often as many as eight in a nest. 



It is also said that chickadees sometimes make 

 their own excavations, but I have never observed 

 them doing this, and am of the opinion that it is 

 rarely, if ever, done. Their tiny slender bills 

 are adapted to picking out microscopic objects 

 from crevices in the bark of trees, and not to 

 boring holes. 



I have seen these little birds on winter days, 

 cheerily hopping about in zero temperature with 

 the utmost unconcern, when almost all visible 

 things in nature seemed paralyzed with the cold. 

 The minute seeds and insects upon which they 

 feed must constitute a fierce fuel for their little 



* Birds of Eastern North America, p. 390. 



