The Breath of a Bird 187 



port, now hopping along a branch, now suspended from 

 some wormy twig. 



Can we do aught but silently marvel at this alchemy? 

 A little bundle of muscle and blood, which in this freez- 

 ing weather can transmute frozen beetles and zero air 

 into a happy, cheery little Black-capped Chickadee, as he 

 names himself, whose bravery shames us, whose trust- 

 fulness warms our hearts ! 



And the next time you raise your gun to needlessly 

 take a feathered life, think of the marvellous little en- 

 gine which your lead will stifle forever; lower your weap- 

 on and look into the clear bright eyes of the bird whose 

 body equals yours in physical perfection, and whose tiny 

 brain can generate a sympathy, a love for its mate, which 

 in sincerity and unselfishness suffers little when compared 

 with human affection. 



FIG. 138. Chickadee in the snow. 



