BLACK-CAP TITMOUSE. 375 
ally breeds there. Numerous eggs produce a numerous progeny, and 
as soon as the first brood has been reared, the young range hither and 
thither in a body, searching for food, while their parents, intent on form- 
ing another family, remain concealed and almost silent, laying their 
eggs in the hole deserted by some small Woodpecker, or forming one 
for themselves. As it has been my fortune to witness a pair at this 
work, [ will here state what occurred, notwithstanding the opinion of 
those who inform us that the bill of a Titmouse is “ not shaped for 
digging.” While seated one morning under a crab-apple tree (very 
hard wood, Reader), I saw two Black-cap Titmice fluttering about in 
great concern, as if anxious to see me depart. Ly their manners in- 
deed I was induced to believe that their nest was near, and, anxious to 
observe their proceedings, I removed to the distance of about twenty 
paces. ‘The birds now became silent, alighted on the apple-tree, gra- 
dually moved towards the base of one of its large branches, and one ‘of 
them disappeared in what I then supposed to be the hole of some small 
Woodpecker; but I saw it presently on the edge, with a small chip in 
its bill, and again cautiously approached the tree. When three or four 
yards off I distinctly heard the peckings or taps of the industrious 
worker within, and saw it come to the mouth of the hole and return 
many times in succession in the course of half an hour, after which I 
got up and examined the mansion. ‘The hole was about three inches 
deep, and dug obliquely downward from the aperture, which was just 
large enough to admit the bird. I had observed both sexes at this 
labour, and left the spot perfectly satisfied as to their power of boring 
a nest for themselves. 
The Black-cap Titmouse, or Chickadee, as it is generally named in 
our Kastern States, though exceedingly shy in summer or during the 
breeding season, becomes quite familiar in winter, although it never 
ventures to enter the habitations of man; but in the most boisterous 
weather, requiring neither food nor shelter there, it may be seen amidst 
the snow in the rugged paths of the cheerless woods, where it wel- 
comes the traveller or the woodcutter with a confidence and cheer- 
fulness far surpassing the well-known familiarity of the Robin Red- 
breast of Europe. Often, on such occasions, should you offer it, no 
matter how small a portion of your fare, it alights without hesitation, 
and devours it without manifesting any apprehension. The sound 
of an axe in the woods is sufficient to bring forth several of these busy 
