58 OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 
The children had frequently brought crumbs and 
seeds to school, which they scattered where they could 
watch the birds from the low windows, for, unlike most 
schoolhouses, these windows were not above the chil- 
dren’s heads. 
Laura said: “ I am well acquainted with the Chick- 
adee, and have thrown crumbs to him ever since I can 
remember. He stays all the year, but no one notices 
him in summer among all the other birds.” 
“There’s one now!” exclaimed a pupil who sat 
near the window. 
Miss Sweet permitted them to go quietly where 
they could observe him. 
“See him swinging and singing in a cool, careless 
way as though he meant to have a good time,” re- 
marked “Baby.” 
‘““Couldn’t be much else but cool with the tempera- 
ture at ten in the shade and snow everywhere,” saida boy. 
‘See his black cap and necktie,” said another boy. 
‘““ He doesn’t wear gay colors; may be he’s a bird 
Quaker ?” said “Student.” 
“Is he much of a singer, Miss Sweet?” asked 
“Querist.” 
‘He sings no brilliant song, but his bright little 
notes are as cheery on a sultry August afternoor, or a 
bleak December morning, as they are in the ‘merry 
month of May.’ The sounds from which he derives his 
name appear to be call-notes, and when repeated fre- 
quently a great number of them will assemble.” 
