MY CHICADEE FRIENDS 109 



I thought that for once at least I must be fairly 

 close to nature in one of its happiest moods, and 

 in all the splendour of the fullness of summer. For 

 there were birds, both young and old, trusting me 

 with confidence, the old ones flying about as though 

 thoroughly agreeing to this strange friendship; now 

 on my hand, now on my shoulder, sitting so close 

 to my face that I could with my cheek stroke both 

 Chicadee and his confiding mate. Their soft feathers 

 against my skin, and their small warm feet on my 

 fingers gave a thrill that went through my system, 

 leaving a glow of pleasure such as one seldom has 

 the good fortune to experience. 



What was it that gave this pleasure ? Only the 

 immediate presence of some very small birds, birds 

 that so many people know not even by name. 

 What was there in this to give that strange thrill ? 

 Each time a bird comes to me of its own accord I 

 feel it, and am repaid a hundredfold for any hard- 

 ships I may have encountered in trying to make 

 them realise my friendly intentions. At first, as 

 a bird comes near, inquiry showing in its every 

 move, one's heart throbs with the great pleasure 

 of anticipation, that pleasure which is so often the 

 end of our dearest hopes. Nearer and nearer comes 

 our would-be friend, and harder and harder does 

 the heart beat, until we dread that its throbbing 

 may frighten away the bird, and we hold the 

 breath and wish the heart would make less noise. 

 There is a choking sensation in the throat, such as 

 one feels when listening to beautiful music, as the 

 bird finally comes on one's hand, and the realisation 

 of a thing accomplished seems to release the heart, 



