CHICKADEE 373 



Nov. 7, 1858. We are left to the chickadee's familiar 

 notes, and the jay for trumpeter. What struck me was 

 a certain emptiness beyond, between the hemlocks and 

 the hill, in the cool, washed air, as if I appreciated even 

 here the absence of insects from it. It suggested agree- 

 ably to me a mere space in which to walk briskly. The 

 fields are bleak, and they are, as it were, vacated. The 

 very earth is like a house shut up for the winter, and I 

 go knocking about it in vain. But just then I heard a 

 chickadee on a hemlock, and was inexpressibly cheered 

 to find that an old acquaintance was yet stirring 

 about the premises, and was, I was assured, to be 

 there all winter. All that is evergreen in me revived 

 at once. 



Dec. 28, 1858. I notice a few chickadees there in the 

 edge of the pines, in the sun, lisping and twittering 

 cheerfully to one another, with a reference to me, I 

 think, — the cunning and innocent little birds. One a 

 little further off utters the phoebe note. There is a foot 

 more or less of clear open water at the edge here, and, 

 seeing this, one of these birds hops down as if glad to 

 find any open water at this season, and, after drinking, 

 it stands in the water on a stone up to its belly and dips 

 its head and flirts the water about vigorously, giving 

 itself a good washing. I had not suspected this at this 

 season. No fear that it will catch cold. 



Oct. 15, 1859. The chickadees sing as if at home. 

 They are not travelling singers hired by any Barnum.' 

 Theirs is an honest, homely, heartfelt melody. Shall not 



1 [Jenny Lind made her American tour under an engagement with 

 P. T. Bamum in 1850-1851.] 



