6 Birds of the Snow [FIRST WEEK 



In winter some one species of bird usually predominates, 

 most often, perhaps, it is the black-capped chickadee. 

 They seem to fill every grove, and, if you take your stand 

 in the woods, flock after flock will pass in succession. 

 What good luck must have come to the chickadee race 

 during the preceding summer? Was some one of their 

 enemies stricken with a plague, or did they show more 

 than usual care in the selecting of their nesting holes? 

 Whatever it was, during such a year, it seems certain that 

 scores more of chickadee babies manage to live to grow 

 up than is usually the case. These little fluffs are, in 

 their way, as remarkable acrobats as are the nuthatches, 

 and it is a marvel how the very thin legs, with their tiny 

 sliver of bone and thread of tendon, can hold the body 

 of the bird in almost any position, while the vainly hidden 

 clusters of insect eggs are pried into. Without ceasing a 

 moment in their busy search for food, the fluffy feathered 

 members of the flock call to each other, " Chick-a-chick- 

 a-dee-dee!" but now and then the heart of some little 

 fellow bubbles over, and he rests an instant, sending out 

 a sweet, tender, high call, a " Phce-be ! " love note, which 

 warms our ears in the frosty air and makes us feel a real 

 affection for the brave little mites. 



Our song sparrow is, like the poor, always with us, at 

 least near the coast, but we think none the less of him 

 for that, and besides, that fact is true in only one sense. 

 A ripple in a stream may be seen day after day, and yet 

 the water forming it is never the same, it is continually 

 flowing onward. This is usually the case with song spar- 

 rows and with most other birds which are present summer 



