Hints to Audubon Workers. 



135 



European species apply equally well to 

 ours: — 



' blithe new comer! I have heard, 



I hear thee and rejoice; 

 O cuckoo! Shall I call thee bird ? 

 Or but a wandering voice ? 



' While I am lying on the grass, 

 Thy loud note smites my ear ! 

 From hill to hill it seems to pass, 

 At once far off and near ! 

 * * * * 



' Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! 

 Even yet thou art to me 

 No bird, but an invisible thing, 

 A voice, a mystery.' " 



BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE ; TITMOUSE. 



Read Emerson's "Titmouse" and you 

 will recognize this charming little creature 

 without the help of your glass. Not only 

 in the spring and fall, but in the coldest 

 winter days his bright ^^ chick-a-dce-dee — 

 dee-dee" that Thoreau calls ** silver tink- 

 ling," rings through the air. When you 

 hear it, if you look carefully over the tree, 

 you will see a fluffy little body with a black 

 hood that is relieved by whitish side pieces; 

 a vest to match the sides of the hood ; and 

 a dark gray coat for contrast. 



He is flitting about hither and thither, 

 clinging to the side of a tree one minute, 

 and picking at the moss on a branch the 

 next; and you will hardly catch more than 

 a glimpse of his black cap and gray and 

 white clothes, unless you come nearer to 

 him. If you care for a better view you 

 need not be afraid of frightening him, for 

 he has the most winning confidence in 

 man, inspecting the trees in your front yard 

 or those in the woods, with the same un- 

 conscious unconcern. 



You are inclined to think that the busy 

 chickadee takes no time to meditate, and 

 sees only the bright side of life; and when 

 you hear his plaintive minor whistle echo- 

 ing through the woods, you wonder if it 

 can have come from the same little creature 



whose merry chick' -a-dee-dee' you know so 



well. 



This little atom at full breath, 

 Hurling defiance at vast death 



never does anything by halves. When he 

 is happy, he is the best company one could 

 hope for, on a winter's walk; when he is 

 busy he seems the realization of perpetual 

 motion; and when he gives up his ordinary 

 pursuits and prepares to rear a family, he 

 goes to work in the same generous fashion. 

 He leaves civilization with its many dis- 

 tractions, and goes into the woods. Even 

 there he is not content to sit on the top of 

 a nest; and as his bill is too delicate to be 

 used as a saw, he fits up an old wood- 

 pecker's hole in the side of a stump or a 

 dead stub, and retires from the world with 

 the determination of a hermit. 



In lining his nest he shows the delicacy 

 of taste one naturally expects from him. 

 Although the bottom of the nest is a foot 

 or more below the hole, it is far prettier 

 than most of the bird homes that are on 

 exhibition in the forest. Bits of fresh 

 green moss give it a dainty air, and bring 

 out to the best advantage the dark gray of 

 the squirrel or rabbit fur that makes it 

 snug and warm One is tempted to won- 

 der where the fur came from, and if the 

 ardent chickadee tweaked it out of the 

 back of some preoccupied squirrel. Per- 

 haps the demure little recluse has a spice 

 of wickedness after all, and his satisfaction 

 in his secure retreat has something of ex- 

 ultant mischief in it. 



YELLOWBIRD ; AMERICAN GOLDFINCH ; 

 THISTLEBIRD. 



Like the chickadee, this is one of the 

 captivating little birds that make Audubon 

 workers feel most strongly the barbarism 

 of the bird-wearing fashion. A trifle larger 

 than the titmouse — say a third as large as 

 a robin — his slender form fits him for fly- 

 ing about in the air, while the chickadee, 

 who spends his time flitting around the 



