BY THE WAYSIDE. 
57 
SCHOOL BRANCH DEPARTMENT. 
Every Wisconsin School Branch is required to subscribe for at least one copy of BY THE WAYSIDE 
Letters for this department should be written on only- 
one side of the page, should give the name, age and ad¬ 
dress of the writer, and should be mailed by the first of 
the month, Illinois Children sending to Mrs. Wm. M. 
Scudder, 165 Buena Ave., Chicago, Ill., and Wisconsin 
children to Mrs. Peckliam, 646 Marshall St., Milwaukee, 
Wis. An honor badge will be awarded for each state 
every month, preference being given to letters about the 
bird for the month (which is always on this page), and 
to original observations. Any child who wins the honor 
badge twice will receive a bird book as a prize. 
The wren button, which is the badge of the Audubon 
Society, costs one cent, and may be bought from Mrs. 
Scudder or Mrs. Peckham. 
Any Wisconsin School Branch may, without expense, 
have the use of the Gordon and Merrill Libraries of bird 
books, byapplyingto Miss Bossert, Librarian, 719 Frank¬ 
lin St., Milwaukee. 
I A set of colored bird slides with a type-written lecture 
may be rented from Prof. W. S. Marshall, 114 E. Gorham 
St., Madison, Wis. 
Illinois Schools may use, without expense, a library 
or a lecture with lantern slides, by applying to Mrs. 
Kuthven Deane, 504 N. State St., Chicago. 
Black=capped Chickadee. 
Top of head, nape, and throat black; rest of body 
gray; under parts lighter; wing and tail feathers edged 
with white. Length, about 6)4 inches. 
He who knows the chickadee only by name is 
an enviable person, for he has still before him 
the initial pleasures of one of the choicest of 
all bird friendships. When seen in a clearing 
as the pretty bird flits from one tree to an¬ 
other, his short wings and long tail give him 
a bobby flight by which we can recognize him 
at a distance. But when he clings to the gray 
branches, his soft, grayish suit, with its black 
cap and the trimmings that cut the bird form, 
I hide him as well as the brown suit of the little 
wren protects him when hunting in the dark 
crevices of the brown earth. In many respects 
the wren and chickadee are as unlike as their 
livery. This is especially true of their songs, 
for while tin* wren lives up to his family con¬ 
nections—being related to the catbird and the 
mocker—the chickadee is no musician. Still 
every note he utters is dear to his friends, and 
lie lias a varied repertoire. There are the sweet 
chickadee call which gives him his name, the 
soft sunny day-day-day he coos over to him¬ 
self, the sweet, sad phoc-be whistle of spring 
and summer, and the pleasant conversational 
chick-a-day-aJi-day-day-day-day. Both ( wren 
and chickadee are cheering, trustful little tots, 
eminently good for the blues, evoking every 
bird lover’s gratitude and affection. 
In the spring, when the feathered tourists 
are coming back and the excitement of nest- 
building is absorbing our attention, we do not 
think much about the chickadee except to no¬ 
tice its clearly whistled phoc-be occasionally 
coming from the woods; but some day we are 
given a thrill of pleasure by the appearance of 
a pair of the fluffy black-caps leading around a 
family of young, grown almost as big as them¬ 
selves, quite unbeknown to us. 
From that time on until the following spring 
w r e can have the society of the friendly chicka¬ 
dees if w r e but offer them a little food when' 
cold weather comes, and their good cheer is so 
grateful that we are glad to do anything to 
keep them about us. A piece of suet nailed to 
a tree pleases them very well, but they also 
like the fat of fresh pork; and it is a good 
idea to fasten bits of pork at intervals along 
a clothesline, for the cord is strong enough to 
make a steady perch for the birds as they peck 
at the meat. 
But though the birds are glad of the dain¬ 
ties we may offer them, they are quite capable 
of finding food for themselves, even in the 
bleakest winter weather, for they live on grubs, 
and on the eggs of moths hidden under the 
bark of trees. They are particularly fond of 
the eggs of the canker worm moth. Mr. For- 
busli of the Massachusetts State Board of 
Agriculture calculated that one chickadee in 
one day would destroy 5,550 eggs, and in the 
twenty-five days in which the canker worm 
moths run or crawl up the trees, 138,750 eggs. 
He was so impressed with the value of the 
birds’ services that he attracted them to an 
infested orchard by feeding them there during 
the winter; and the following summer “it was 
noticed that while trees in neighboring orch¬ 
ards were seriously infested with canker worms 
and to a less degree with tent-caterpillars, 
those in the orchard which had been frequented 
by the chickadees during the winter and spring 
w r ere not seriously infested, and that compara¬ 
tively few r of the worms and caterpillars were 
to be found there.” * * * The bill of the 
chickadee—a sharply-pointed little pick—is ad¬ 
mirably suited to this work of excavating for 
