148 SINGING BIRDS. 
crevice of the bark, and searching around the roots and in 
every possible retreat of their insect prey or its larve. If the 
object chance to fall, they industriously descend to the ground 
and glean it up with the utmost economy. 
On seeing a cat or other object of natural antipathy, the 
Chickadee, like the peevish Jay, scolds in a loud, angry, and 
hoarse note, like '¢she déigh ddigh ddigh. Among the other 
notes of this species I have heard a call like “he-de-jay, tshe- 
dezay, the two first syllables being a slender chirp, with the yay 
strongly pronounced. Almost the only note of this bird which 
may be called a song is one which is frequently heard at inter- 
vals in the depth of the forest, at times of the day usually when 
all other birds are silent. We then may sometimes hear in the 
midst of this solitude two feeble, drawling, clearly whistled, and 
rather melancholy notes, like ’#-dérry, and sometimes ’ye- 
pérrit, and occasionally, but much more rarely, in the same 
wiry, whistling, solemn tone, ’#244é. The young, in winter, also 
sometimes drawl out these contemplative strains. In all cases 
the first syllable is very high and clear, the second word drops 
low and ends like a feeble plaint. This is nearly all the quaint 
song ever attempted by the Chickadee, and is perhaps the two 
notes sounding like the whetting of a saw, remarked of ‘the 
Marsh Titmouse in England by Mr. White, in his “ Natural 
History of Selborne.” On fine days, about the commencement 
of October, I have heard the Chickadee sometimes for half an 
hour at a time attempt a lively, petulant warble very different 
from his ordinary notes. On these occasions he appears to 
flit about, still hunting for his prey, but almost in an ecstasy of 
delight and vigor. But after a while the usual drawling note 
again occurs. These birds, like many others, are very subject 
to the attacks of vermin, and they accumulate in great numbers 
around that part of the head and front which is least accessible 
to their feet. 
The European bird, so very similar to ours, is partial to 
marshy situations. Ours has no such predilection, nor do the 
American ones, that I can learn, ever lay up or hide any’store 
of seeds for provision, —a habit reported of the foreign family. 
