88 EVERYDAY BIRDS 



attach to branches of trees and to the veranda 

 trellis, taking pains, of course, to have them 

 beyond the cat's reach (that the birds may feed 

 safely), and at the same time well disposed for 

 our own convenience as spectators. For myself, 

 in addition, I generally nail pieces of the bait 

 upon one or two of the outer sills of my study 

 windows. I like, as I sit reading or writing, to 

 hear now and then a nuthatch or a chickadee 

 hammering just outside the pane. Often I rise 

 to have a look at the visitor. There is nothing 

 but the glass between us, and I can stand near 

 enough to see his beady eyes, and, so to speak, 

 the expression of his face. Sometimes two birds 

 are there at once, one waiting for the other. 

 Sometimes they have a bit of a set-to. Then, 

 certainly, they are not without facial expression. 

 Once in a while, in severe weather, I have 

 sprinkled crumbs (sweet or fatty crumbs are best 

 — say bits of doughnut) on the inside ledge, and 

 then, with the window raised a few inches, have 

 awaited callers. If the weather is bad enough 

 they are not long in coming. A chickadee 

 ahghts on the outer sill, notices the open win- 

 dow, scolds a little (the thing looks like a trap — 

 at aU events it is something new, and birds are 

 conservative), catches sight of the crumbs (well, 

 now, that 's another story), ceases his dee, dee, 

 dee, and the next minute hops inside. 



