/ 
i,i ii a . jz „ 
"V\ 
IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
V 
hills, as we approached them, appeared through our glasses 
rich undulating color, vivid and startling against 
blue of the sky beyond. 
-dee-dee-chick, a-dee-dee!” “Do you hear that, 
r es, but I don’t see him.” Again came the clear, 
saucy, scolding notes just over our heads. “I see him!” called 
0^ 
Jack. Sure enough, there he was, a black-capped chickadee, 
hanging from the end of a branch of a small sapling, sending 
out his scolding notes and fairly bubbling over with good na¬ 
ture. “Don’t they ever go south?” inquired Jack. “No, they 
are one of our very few resident birds, and help share the long 
Winter with us,” I answered. 
Mr. Chick hopped a few feet closer, his black cap bobbing 
V I 5 \ i 
here and there. He certainly was a bundle of nerves. Now 
on one limb, then on another, hunting for small insects and 
spider eggs that he might find lurking beneath the bark. 
“Well, that’s number one for this morning,” remarked Tom 
as he made a note in his book. 
V\3 
V 
We had proceeded but a few yards when a nasal, “yank- 
yank” greeted our ears, and looking up w r e saw the author of 
.A 
of an oak limb. 
this queer sound, peering down upon us from the under-side 
[ 112 ] 
'mill 
fetSdiJvA 
mmmmm 
‘ VI/ 
T 
