



CHAPTER VI 



MY CHICADEE FRIENDS * 



A true account of an experience with a chicadee family. 



CHICADEE, chicadee, chicadee-dee-dee came from 

 among the branches of the swaying silver birch. 

 The same note was echoed from another tree near 

 by. This was in the woods where the ground was 

 dark and damp from the rains of early spring, there 

 was as yet but scanty vegetation, which might be 

 seen trying to force its way through the thickly 

 matted leaves of the year that had gone for ever. 

 The ground was so entirely covered with these 

 reminders of the departed year that one wondered 

 whether this budding spring would have the 

 power to hide the numerous dying skeletons. The 

 trees were in all the tender glory of their new green 

 covering, each one vying with its neighbour in its 

 effort to shade the ground, and to keep the ever- 

 increasing heat of the sun from burning the delicate 

 plants that were coming into life in the soil formed 

 by endless years of dying leaves. In all things was 

 the inevitable sign of life. The birds' songs filled 

 the air to the accompaniment of the soft rustling of 

 the leaves. 



Again came the sweet call of the chicadee, with 

 the tenderest of answers "Dee-dee" and through 

 the interlacing branches flew a small ball of black, 



* First published in Everybody's Magazine, 



