CHAPTER XVI. 



THE TIT FAMILY. 



Two or three days ago Parus Minor, the lesser tit. very 

 obligingly came before my windows with a mute suggestion 

 that there are other home-stay ers amongst the bi rds of Kiangs u . 

 besides the finches. "Won't you say some thing about me?" 

 That, in few words, was the message conveyed. That Mrs.Tit 

 intended it is more than I can say. I have may own theory of 

 inspiration, however. 



In any case, there she was, almost commanding inspec- 

 tion. In a dozen pretty ways she courted attention. "See what 

 I can do, and watch me do it!" That was her invitation, and 

 then she proceeded with her '"turn." as they would savin the 

 music hall. She gave a practical exemplification of the art of 

 finding insects and caterpillars. She crept along the branches 

 looking fifty ways at once, and making little darts when- 

 ever something good caught her eye. Xo crack in the bark 

 escaped her, and, now and then, it was evident that some six- 

 legged creature, which would do no good to the tree, was 

 seizedand transferred into that marvellous receptacle, a bird's 

 crop. Then it was the turn of the twigs and leaves. At times 

 even single leaves were carefully examined, the little bill 

 picking here and seizing there, its owner the while turning 

 herself into all the possible and impossible attitudes which 

 . only titsand such-like ethereal creatures are capableof assum- 

 ing. Twigs bend with the weight, tiny as it is. But that 

 matters nothing. Mrs.Tit is as much at home upside down as 

 she is the other way. She hangs by the slenderest of sup- 

 ports, she twists, she turns, now on terra firma so to speak, a 

 moment after toall intentsand purposes hanging by nothing, so 

 slender is the support she has found, the tiny petiole of some 

 delicate leaf. But in all her attitudes, unstudied as they are, 

 sheisa model of grace. Her poses, unrehearsedandunthought- 

 of. are such as might bring a twinge of envy to the most 

 graceful of the other biped kind. 



She was giving the whole of her attention to a so-called 

 Chinese ash, which is not an ash at all, but whose botanical 

 name has escaped recollectio n for the moment. It is on these 

 trees evidently that the tits find most of what they want. A 

 beautifully clothed Sebifera growing close by. with its deli- 



