sweeter, with a peculiarly pensive intonation 
that seems entirely at variance with the lively 
motions of the little songster. They sing all 
the year round, unless it may be in the latter 
part of fall, though their song is heard at rare 
intervals during the autumn. The French Cana¬ 
dians call them qui es tu ■ from a fancied resem¬ 
blance of the notea of their song to this Interro¬ 
gatory. In the latter part of February they sing 
frequently. Besides their 6ong, they utter a 
series of singular guttural notes—something 
betweeu a song and a chirp, but remarkably 
melodious. I think It is peculiar to the male, 
but the similarity of the plumage of the sexes 
renders It difficult to decide. They are capa¬ 
cious singers, sometimes repeating their simple 
melody fifty or sixty times, but ordinarily not 
more than six or seven without an Interval Of 
silence, and often breaking off in tbc middle of 
a strain. 
They begin to gather materials for nesting the 
last week in April or first week in May. These 
consist of flax, feathers, wool, cotton, hair, and 
somo woolly substance, apparently tbp sweep¬ 
ings of carpets, and as I have seen them getting 
cotton as late as the twelfth of June, they prob¬ 
ably raise more than one brood. They are very 
fearless when collecting materials. I have seen 
them on a door-step pulling threads from a 
carpet. On the eighth of May I found one of 
their nests In a basswood stump. The entrance 
was about two and a quarter inches long by one 
inch and a-half wide, and the passage, which was 
oblique and irregular, wae five Inches In length 
from the entrance to the bottom of the excava¬ 
tion in which the nest was constructed. This 
excavation or cell was enlarged to the capacity 
of a common coffee cup, and nearly spherical in 
form. It has been a mooted point with orni¬ 
thologists whether this bird excavates his own 
nesting place or appropriates the disused home 
of some bird of the Woodpecker genus; I am 
disposed to think that he performs the labor for 
himself, Herculean as the task appears for a little 
creature not larger than a Goldfinch, with no 
drilling implement but a bill scarcely one-fourth 
of an inch in length. The aperture does not 
seem of sufficient size to admit of the easy In¬ 
gress and egress of a larger bird, and. the work 
had been recently performed, as was proved by 
the color of the wood which had not lost its 
whiteness by exposure to the weather. The 
stump w'as so entirely decayed that in removing 
a piece to gain access to the nest it broke into 
fragments, and some portions of it could be 
crumbled to powder by slight friction, so that 
the strength required to perforate It was leas 
than might at first, appear necessary. The nest 
was composed of cotton, hair and somo woolly 
eubatance matted together. It contained, when 
I found It, five eggs, (two more were subse¬ 
quently added,) a little smaller than those of the 
Summer Warbler—white, with a circle of min¬ 
ute rust-colored spots on the larger end. They 
were like the eggs of the water fowls, carefully 
covered with hair, a few feathers and other ma¬ 
terials, so felted that nearly the whole covering 
could be removed in one piece. 
During the period of Incubation, which is 
thirteen or fourteen days, I did not find the 
eggs covered. As la customary with other Bmall 
birds, the mother-bird appears to be fed by the 
male, while sitting. I have seen one which I 
supposed to be the female, when feeding from a 
bit of meat, driven away by her mate, who im¬ 
mediately picked off a crumb and fed her him¬ 
self, as If he were jealous of the privilege of 
providing for her. The young remain In the 
nest seventeen days after hatching, a longer 
time than those of any of our common song¬ 
sters, with the exception of the Phoebe. When 
disturbed, the nestlings did not attempt to 
escape by fluttering from the nest, but shrank 
closely into it and lay motionless, scarcely show¬ 
ing a sign of life unless taken in the hand. 
When they left the nest they were remarkably 
well developed and full fledged. Their plumage 
did not perceptibly differ from that of the adult 
birds. 
Many of our winter birds have a cheerful 
whistle, a lively chirp or musical twitter, but 
the Chicadee is our winter songster par excel¬ 
lence. Since the winter months commenced he 
has often, in the morning, while perched on a 
bush or tree near my chamber window, greeted 
my waking with his clear, pensive notes of 
“ linked sweetness, long drawn out," not even 
intermitting his BODg during a storm of sleet 
and Bnow. 
Addison Co., Vt., 1866. 
Written tor Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
household birds or new England 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
WHAT I SAW, HEARD AND THINK. 
“Nettie come here!" 
“Yes, ma,”— and away ran Nettie, glad of 
an opportunity to help her mother. She did 
not hesitate an instant. She did not stop to 
ask what was wanted, nor to plead an excuse 
that she might play a moment longer. My 
mother wants me, that was cuough. 
First, I will tell my young readers that Nettie 
is a little girl about ten years old. She lives 
among the hills of Steuben County, in this State, 
and in one of my rambles a short time since, I 
found her. I had never seen her before in my 
life. My stay was short; but while there, I 
heard what I have written at the commencement 
of this article. Don't you think I had a pretty 
favorable opinion of Nettie after that ? Yes I 
did, aud I thought a little girl so ready and will¬ 
ing to oblige her parents—sO pleasant in reply, 
so prompt in manner — would be kind to her 
brothers aud sisters, kind to her playmates, 
kind to ctery one. I thought what a good 
scholar she must be, bow punctual at school, 
how hard she would try to get her lessons, how 
very careful not to disobey her teacher. Anri 
theu, how her teacher aud schoolmates would 
love her. 
Dou’tsomeof you know a little girl or boy 
about liko Nettie?— and hav’nt von sometimo 
NUMBER I.—THE CHiCADEE. 
I tropose to give slight sketches of the 
domestic life of a few of our most familiar 
Song-Birds — the pretty little A riels, who 
seem the incarnation of brightness, music and 
motion of our brief New England summers: 
Such as the vivacious Blue Bird, who takes the 
one-roomed cottage on the gate post for the 
season, and gives his notes in payment for the 
rent.—The pngnaclous Song Sparrow, from 
whose tuneful throat sweet, simple melodies 
are continually gushing, like water from an 
over-brimming fountain—always ready to fight 
or sing, as occasion may demand—building his 
snug little domicil in the rose-trees, under a 
screen of clustering buds, or cunningly con¬ 
cealed In the long grass tangled about tbelr feet. 
The Anxious, matronly Robin, who constructs 
her wattled tenement in a vacant cornice.—The 
vigilant, sober robed Phoebe, who occupies, per¬ 
haps, the opposite one, using, if convenient, the 
deserted nest of neighbor Robin for a fortress 
or outer wall, in which, with persevering indus¬ 
try, she rears a firm structure that she intends 
for a family residence for successive generations. 
The trustful, loving little Hair Bird, who weaves 
her tiny basket amid the purpling clusters of the 
door-vine, or in the covert of the pendant blos¬ 
soms of the scarlet honey-suckle that wreaths 
the porch, and gathers and twines into her frail 
fabric, like an economical little housewife, the 
shreds scattered around the door. The loqua¬ 
cious Cliff 8wallows, who plaster their village 
of adobe huts under the sheltering barn eaves. 
And the saucy Oriole, who slings her hammock 
on the slenderest bough of the household elm. 
I shall not arrange these scientifically according 
to family and genus, but introduce them (as 
they introduce themselves) according to the 
order of their coming in the vernal months. 
Taking the precedence of all others is the 
brave, blithe, hardy Chicadee, or Blackcap 
Titmouse, the /hri« Atricapilius of ornitholo¬ 
gists. All dwellers in the country are familiar 
with his ordinary note, from which he has been 
christened Chlcadce, and with his personal ap¬ 
pearance. Though not remarkable for the bril¬ 
liancy of Ids plumage, yet the velvety black of 
his crown, the dear slate color of his back, 
wings and tail, the dark hue of his bill and feet, 
contrasting with the ashy white of the under 
portions of his body, render him a conspicuous 
bird for his size, which is scarcely that of a 
Canary. Unlike his melodious peers of the 
grove and field, he does not desert us when 
the frost with Icy fingers gathers the autumn 
blossoms, to return again only when the warm 
breath of the south heralds the coming spring. 
These, like other modern prophets, foretell 
events already transpiring. But the Chicadee— 
a bold little seer, full of faith in the unseen— 
utters his musical prediction of earth’s resur¬ 
rection while she still lies stark and motionless 
beneath her winter’s shroud. If the winter La 
mild, the Chlcadce confines himself mostly to 
the forests. But should the season be severe, 
he frequents the environs of the farm house, 
often in company with his larger friends—the 
plump Nuthatch, with his cheery whistle, and 
the sly, silent Downy Woodpecker, searching 
everywhere for subsistence,—flitting among the 
naked branches of the trees, and feeding eagerly 
on any offal of beeves or Bwine which the unti¬ 
diness of the occupants has left exposed; and 
iu default of other supplies, may be seen run¬ 
ning on the walls and roofs of outhouses, prying 
into every nook and cranny with the keen eye of 
a detective—dragging forth from its winter quar¬ 
ters many an unsuspecting, helpless insect, and 
destroying the unborn hopes of unnumbered 
motbs, wasps and Epidors. 
If food is provided for them they soon find it 
and become quite familiar. In the winter of ’Go 
the weather was rather severe, and I had a tabic 
improvised for them just outside the pantry 
window-sill. Here they came daily in consider¬ 
able numbers, accompanied often by the more 
timid Nuthatch aud Woodpecker. They were 
supplied with bread, potatoes, and cooked meats 
of various kinds, and manifested a decided 
preference for the latter—exhibiting a for more 
exclusive taste for animal food than their larger 
companions. They became so tame that they 
might be approached within a foot or two when 
the closed window intervened. I finally opened 
the window, and setting a plate of cold meat on 
the shelf in front, they came and ate freely of it 
when no person was in the room. On one occa¬ 
sion, one of them, in attempting to fly out, lost 
his way and became imprisoned between the 
upper and lower sash. 1 succeeded in extri¬ 
cating him, but, in doing so, pulled out the 
whole of his tall feathers. I feared that I had 
effectually frightened him, but the next day had 
the satisfaction of seeing my tailless protege 
taking his food as usual. They have a curious 
habit of picking up a morsel in their bills and 
by a quick motion placing it under their claws, 
and then holding it down firmly they pick it 
out from between their toes. When a pair of 
them came they rarely ate at the same time, one 
waiting patiently on a neighboring bush until 
her companion had finished his repast. As 
spring advanced their visits became less fre¬ 
quent, though a few came occasionally till near 
summer, hike the Woodpecker, their position 
appears to be almost a matter of indifference. 
I have seen them feeding from a piece of meat, 
suspended by a string several inches in length, 
with their backs downward. 
The song of the Chicadee somewhat resembles 
that of the common Phoebe, (J fuscicapa fasca,) 
though differently accented, louder and much 
BlKTU-l'I-ACB OF BOTINS 
ROBERT BtTKISr*, TITE SCOTTISH BARD. 
of July he was brought to his home atDumfr\e6> 
and on the 2'2d the sufferings of this great, but 
ill-fated genius, were terminated. 
An eminent English author speaking of Burns 
and his peculiar characteristics, says: — “Of hfo 
general behavior, every one spoke In the highest 
terms. It usually bespoke a mind conscious of 
superior talents, not, however, unmixed with the 
affections which beget familiarity and affability. 
His conversation was extremely fascinating; rich 
In wit, humor, whim, and occasionally in serious 
and apposite reflection. No man had a quicker 
apprehension of right and wrong, or a stronger 
sense of what was ridiculous and mean. Neither 
chicanery nor sordidness ever appeared iu his 
conduct. Even in the midst of distress, while 
Robert Burns, the favorite bard of Scotland, 
was born on the 15th of January, 1759, in a little 
cottage upon the bonks of the Dopn, about two 
miles from Ayr. His father was a farmer, and 
we find Robert at the tail of the plow, often¬ 
times lingering to indite a stanza to a bird, a 
flower, or any of the myriad objects which sur¬ 
rounded him. Of his occupation ho writes—“ I 
was a dexterous plowman for my age, (fourteen 
years;) and the next eldest to me was a brother 
(Gilbert,) who could drive the plow very well, 
and help me to thrash tho corn.” When a Uttlo 
less than sixteen years of age, Burns first “com 
mitted the sin of rhyme." From thiB ported of 
his life his troubles commenced. It was alter¬ 
nate sunshine and cloud with him, ever after. 
To-day, the honored and feted, prosperity 
his portion, — to-morrow, driven by his 
feelings almost to tnadnesB because of de¬ 
sertion and poverty. His mirth and conviv¬ 
iality threw him into the company of the 
dissolute, and among these ho formed habits ^ 
which eventually worked out his degrada- ggi 
tion. ~=3 
The following lines, a portion of a poem 
written “on turning down a mountain daisy 
with the plow, in April, 178G," seem to par- 
take of the spirit of prophecy when applied 
to himself: gjjsi 
Such is the fate or simple bard, jWwj 
On life’s rough ocean luckless starr’d ; ftWM 
Unskillful he to note the card |U{9 
Of prudent lore, 
Till billows rage, aud gale* blow hard, fM-L 
Aud whelm him o’er. . wJctB 
Such fate In sulfring worth is giv'n, £>*9 
Who long with want* and woes had etriv’n, eg!] 
By human pride or cunning drlrn’n - wb 
To mls'ry’B brink; afl 
Till, wrench'd of ev’ry stay but Iteav’n, 
He, ruin’d sink l r <$4* 
Ev’n thou who mourn'd Ihu daisy’s fate, *83 
That fata is thine—no distant date; 
Stern Ruin’s plowshares drives, elate, 
Full on thy bloom; HWj 
TUI, cruah'd beneath the furrow's weight 
Shall be thy doom. --.Vs 
In the year 1791, BuitNS removed to 
Dumfries. Here his celebrity made him vS 
an object of Interest and curiosity to 
strangers, aud few persona passed through 
the town without au attempt to see film, 
and enjoy the pleasure of his conversation. 
As he could not receive them conveniently 
at home, those Interviews passed at the Inns, 
and often terminated in convivial excesses. 
It was while residing here that he produced 
many of his most beautiful lyrics. 
The peculiar political notions of the poet pre¬ 
vented him from receiving that official patronage 
so lavishly bestowed upon his inferiors. He 
Humility. — A farmer went with his son into 
a wheat field, to see If it was ready for the^har- 
vest. “See, father!" exclaimed the boy, “how 
straight these bold their heads. They must be 
tho best ones. Those that liaog their heads 
down I am sure are not good for much." The 
father plucked a stalk of each kind, and said: 
“See hero, foolish child! This stalk that stood 
so straight and high, is light-headed, and almost 
good for nothing; while this, that hung its head 
so modestly, is full of the most beautiful grain." 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 39 letters. 
My 10,29, 3,8,6 is an animal. 
My 3-3, 2, 20 Is a substance much used. 
My 1, 7,15,9,30, U is a quality all should possess. 
My 12,4,18, 8 Is best seen at uight. 
My Si, 27, I t, 37, 21, 39 la what all desire to gain. 
My 33, 26, 38, 3, 35 Is not here. 
My 38, 36, 25 la what we all like to.do. 
My 13,17, 7, aa is an adjective. 
My 31,11,19 is to give permission. 
My 26, 35, 25,15,4 is a part of the body. 
My 23, 5, 24, 16 is to clean. 
East Lntwitig, N. Y. c. E. 
Answer in two weeks. 
BURNS’ MONUMENT IN DUMFRIES, 
his feeling heart sunk under the secret con¬ 
sciousness of indlgonce, and the apprehensions 
of absolute want, he bore himself loftily to the 
world. He died in the utmost penury, but not 
in debt; and left behind him a name which will 
be remembered us long as departed worth and 
goodness are esteemed among men. 
After contemplating the melancholy story of 
his life, it is impossible not to heavo a sigh at 
the asperity of his fortune, while we repro¬ 
bate tho conduct of those who drew him 
from the simplicity of humble life, and left 
him a prey to anxiety aud want, to sorrow 
and despair. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
CHARADE. 
Jehovah call’d and 1 awoke, 
His thunders on my slumbers broke, 
And from thaf, long dark night t sprang, 
Before tho stars together sang. 
In silent power I’ve mov’d along, 
Regardless of the gathering throng, 
Through desolations drifting plow, 
Like years across the youthful brow. 
My locks are gray, and round my head 
Bear marks of the departed dead, 
That long have moulder'd in the grave, 
Or sank beneath the mighty wave. 
Schuyler, N. Y. F. K. Pierce, 
Answer In two weeks. 
For Moore’* Rural New-Yorker. 
AN ANAGRAM, 
MEDICAL USE OF SALT 
Ho! eb otn eth rsitf ot oeisrvcd 
A oltb no htc emfa fo a uiredf, 
A lfwa ni eht iftah fo a olevr, 
Hesow thera aym operv uret ni het nod, 
Ew unoe fo su nkwo naeorht, 
Dan fot tiuo orrre ew 111a; 
Etnh etl su a*kep lewl fo roo htbrroe, 
Ro heaps tno buaot imh to lal. 
Meredith, N. Y. E 
8 ®" Answer in two weeks. 
Tire Medical World says that in many cases of 
disordered stomach, a tablespoonful of salt is a 
certain cure. In a violent internal pain termed 
colic, ntea6poonful of salt, dissolved In a pint of 
water, taken as soon us possible, with a short 
nap immediately after, is one of the most effeet- 
ttal and speedy remedies known. The same will 
relieve a person who seems almost dead from 
a heavy foil. Iu an apoplectic lit, no time should 
be lost in pouring down salt water, if sufficient 
sensibility remain to allow of swallowing; if 
not, the head must be sponged with cold water 
until the senses return, when salt will com¬ 
pletely restore the patient from the lethargy. 
In a fit, the feet should be placed In warm water 
with mustard added, and the legs briskly rub¬ 
bed; all the bandages removed from the neck, 
and a cool aperient procured, it possible. Iu 
case of severe bleeding at the lungs, when other 
remedies failed, Dr. Rush found that two tea- 
spoonsful of salt stayed the blood. 
ANSWER 30 ENIGMAS^ IN No. 848 
Answer to Illustrated Rebus: 
Mau slum deceit in nil you do, 
Be honest, kind, but careful too. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma:—Counsel in the 
heart of man is like deep water. 
Answer to Anagram: 
I leave the world that knows me not, 
To hold communion with the dead; 
And fancy consecrates tho spot 
Where fancy’s softest dream* are shed. 
I see each shade -all silvery white— 
I hear each spirit’s melting sigh; 
I turn to clasp those forms of light, 
And the pale morning chills my eye. 
Answer to Puzzle:—LOVE. 
Nations should wear mourning for none but 
their benefactors. The representatives of na¬ 
tions should recommend to public homage only 
those who have been the heroes of humanity. 
