MINOR SONGSTERS. 159 



short of marvelous, his taste is so deplorably 

 uncertain, and his passion so often becomes a 

 downright frenzy, that the excited listener, 

 hardly knowing what to think, laughs and shouts 

 Bravo ! by turns. Something must be amiss, 

 certainly, when the deepest feelings of the heart 

 are poured forth in a manner to suggest the per- 

 formance of a buffo. The chickadee, on the 

 other hand, seldom gets mention as a singer. 

 Probably he never looked upon himself as such. 

 You will not find him posing at the top of a 

 tree, challenging the world to listen and admire. 

 But, as he hops from twig to twig in quest of 

 insects' eggs and other dainties, his merry spirits 

 are all the time bubbling over in little chirps 

 and twitters, with now and then a Chickadee, 

 dee, or a Hear, hear me, every least syllable of 

 which is like " the very sound of happy 

 thoughts." For my part, I rate such trifles with 

 the best of all good music, and feel that we 

 cannot be grateful enough to the brave tit, who 

 furnishes us with them for the twelve months 

 of every year. 



So far as the chickadee is concerned, I see 

 nothing whatever to wish different ; but am 

 glad to believe that, for my day and long after, 

 he will remain the same unassuming, careless- 

 hearted creature that he now is. If I may be 

 allowed the paradox, it would be too bad for 



