302 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



cap and flew to my knee where he immediately began searching for 

 seeds as he climbed toward my hands turning his head and looking at 

 me with an inquiring expression in his bright little eyes and seeming 

 to say, Where are those Seeds? 



While each of the three Chickadees were quite tame only one of 

 them could be depended upon to alight upon the hand. The other two 

 have taken food from my hand occasionally when prevented by incle- 

 ment weather from obtaining their natural food. The tamest one of 

 these birds comes quite regularly each day to the window and calls to 

 me with a series of chick-a-dees, liquid gurgles, and strange chuck- 

 ling notes until I bring him food, when he will come to my hand as 

 soon as I open the door. Once after eating from a piece of suet 

 which I held in my hand he flew to a branch near by, when I placed the 

 meat in my pocket and held out my empty hand to him. He soon 

 perched upon it and evidently taking my finger for a piece of suet he 

 hammered it with his sharp little bill until he nearly drew blood. I en- 

 dured the treatment until I felt that I had been sufficiently punished 

 for deceiving the little fellow when much to his disappointment I care- 

 fully withdrew my hand. He seems to recognize me wherever we 

 meet about my home and usually when not far away he will come to 

 me when I imitate his phoe-be call to which he often replies. 



SOME MID/WINTER GLIMPSES OF NATURE FROM MY KITCHEN 



WINDOWS. 



For several years I have been interested in watching the birds about 

 my home, learning the names, songs and habits of some of them. 



During the severe winter of 1904, when the food supply of the birds 

 was cut off by snow and ice, I began putting out scraps of meat, bones 

 and crumbs from the table. Just back of the house, stood a barrel, 

 nearly filled with snow and ice, into which I put bones of all kinds. 



Watching from my kitchen window I soon saw a blue-jay come and 

 begin to feast on the good things he had found. After awhile other 

 jays came, but number one would never allow them in the barrel with 

 himself. They had to be content to perch on a bush near by and watch 

 with curious eyes until number one flew away when another would 

 seize the opportunity to get a taste. 



I became quite attached to them, for they are handsome fellows in 

 spite of their bad habits and harsh voices. 



Their voices are not always harsh however, for the peculiar whistle 

 they sometimes make is quite melodious. I saw one in the act of 

 whistling one day as he stood perched on the edge of my barrel, and 

 was surprised to see him make a bow when he whistled, while he held 

 his head up when he screamed. After this I watched to see if it was 



