Ch'geegee-lokh-sts. 1 39 



hanging up his wet clothes, " I beHeve those chicka- 

 dees make me feel good-natured. Seem kind of 

 cheery, you know, and the crowd needed it." 



And Chickadee, picking up his cracker crumbs, 

 did not act at all as if he had done most to make 

 camp comfortable. 



There is another way in which he helps, a more 

 material way. Millions of destructive insects live and 

 multiply in the buds and tender bark of trees. Other 

 birds never see them, but Chickadee and his relations 

 leave never a twig unexjalored. His bright eyes find 

 the tiny eggs hidden under the buds ; his keen ears 

 hear the larvae feeding under the bark, and a blow of 

 his little bill uncovers them in their mischief-making. 

 His services of this kind are enormous, though rarely 

 acknowledged. 



Chickadee's nest is always neat and comfortable 

 and interesting, just like himself. It is a rare treat 

 to find it. He selects an old knot-hole, generally on 

 the sheltered side of a dry limb, and digs out the 

 rotten wood, making a deep and sometimes winding 

 tunnel downward. In the dry wood at the bottom he 

 makes a little round pocket and lines it with the 

 very softest material. When one finds such a nest, 

 with five or six white eggs delicately touched with 

 pink lying at the bottom, and a pair of chickadees 

 gliding about, half fearful, half trustful, it is altogether 



