BY TEE WAYSIDE 
79 
Our Feeding Tree 
The giant trunk of an old Norway 
spruce about ten feet west of our li¬ 
brary window appealed to us as ideal 
for a feeding-tree for our little brothers 
of the air. Accordingly we nailed up a 
good fat beef-bone on it, high enough 
so that the dogs could not reach it even 
by jumping', and awaited results. 
As day after day passed with no signs 
uf birds we began to' get discouraged and 
wonder if after all it was just some one s 
mistaken notion that Woodpeckers and 
others of the feathered tribe may be at¬ 
tracted by bones. 
On the morning of Nov. 30, after a 
most impatient wait of ten days, we were 
rejoiced on looking out, thro ia. blinding 
snow storm, to see a pretty gray-blue 
bird on the old Norway. He was cling¬ 
ing head downward just above the bone 
and seemed to be inspecting it most 
minutely. After a moment lie pecked a 
good morsel of suet and looked around 
m a surprised sort of way as if to ex¬ 
claims “Well, what luck! Can this 
really be for me ?” 
Seeing that no one appeared to dispute 
his claim he seemed to realize that it was 
i an opportunity not to be wasted and 
! proceeded to gorge himself, picking very 
I rapidly and evidently with a good deal 
of force and casting quick glances from 
side to side as if to- make sure that no 
enemy was in sight. When he had eaten 
his fid he flew away and after a few 
minutes returned with another bird of 
the same kind, probably his wife, as we 
found on looking up Nuthatches that 
Madam looks much like her husband ex¬ 
cept that she is larger and has a gray 
rather than a white breast. 
Our next visitor was a beautiful little 
! black and white Woodpecker with a 
scarlet cap set most jauntily on the very 
back of his head. We noticed that he 
was about the size of the English spar- 
i row. Judging from this fact, his pecu¬ 
liar markings and his red cap we knew 
him to be a Downy. Our hospitality 
seemed to appeal to him sufficiently to 
make him advertise it to many of his 
friends and they came frequently and 
showed their appreciation and more than 
paid for their meals by seeking insects 
most industriously among our many 
trees. Mr. Downy wears all the bright 
apparel in their family as his wife has 
not a tinge of color. 
One morning early before any of the 
family had gone down stairs we heard 
a cheerful voice singing ‘‘Chick—chicka- 
deeadee—dee—dee" and hurrying to a 
window commanding a view of the feed¬ 
ing tree saw, to our great delight a jolly 
black capped chickadee energetically get¬ 
ting his breakfast and singing between 
courses. 
We hailed this new-comer with special 
joy as there probably is no bird so 
friendly and sociable and withal so happy 
and gay as the fluffy care-free gray little 
Chickadee. He is not simply a fair- 
weather friend either but may greet you 
in the woods any stormy day, when you 
have the courage to venture there, some¬ 
thing as Emerson describes in his Win¬ 
ter Walks. 
“Chick-chickadee-dee! A merry note 
From sound heart and happy throat, 
As if he said: ‘‘Good day, good sir, 
Fine afternoon old passenger, 
Glad to see you in these places 
Where January brings few faces.” ’ 
Way along in January after all these 
birds had become constant visitors we 
saw a tiny little brown speckled bird, 
which looked like an animated knot, 
wending its spiral way up the old Nor¬ 
way. We watched with much curiosity 
expecting to see it stop and get a good 
meal at the bone counter, as all the other 
visitors had done, but to our great sur¬ 
prise it took one little peck and passed 
on upward to the branches from whence 
it dropped in its .own peculiar way to 
