ost when there is so much food which they like in the southern part of
our country. Men of science wonder why they do remain here, and are
unable to account for it. Perhaps it is because it is the true home of
these birds which remain, and they prefer to search long and diligently
for their scanty food, and bear the cold and the winds and the frost,
rather than leave it. This is as _we_ should do, and doubtless the birds
that stay through the winter love _their_ homes just as much--as a bird
possibly can.

Of course everybody,--that is, everybody except the tiniest, wee baby,
has seen the winter birds, some of them; at least the Chickadees, the
Snow-birds, and Downy Woodpeckers, and Bluejays and Shore larks. _But are
you acquainted with the little fellows?_ Do you know where and how they
live, and what they eat, and of their habits and songs?

[Illustration: THE CHICKADEE.]

A great favorite of mine is the Chickadee, with his black cap and white
shirt bosom. This active little gentleman is the most social and friendly
of them all. If out in the country, this little fellow in company with
his mates will twitter gaily at sight of you, every now and then looking
curiously at you as if asking, "And who are _you_, sir?" or "Who are
_you_, ma'am?" and pecking his way gradually nearer and nearer will
inspect you in the quaintest and merriest way. Afraid! O no, not they.
Mr. Samuels, a writer about birds, says that he once had an inquisitive
little Chickadee perch on the end of his boot and sit there watching him
inquiringly. They have even been known to feed from the open hand. If you
will daily scatter some crumbs for them before the door, or upon the
window-sill, you will learn for yourselves how neighborly they are.

Still the Chickadees are strangely tender, needing a warm, cosy nest to
shield their little bodies. They cannot make their nests on the limbs of
trees. Oh, no, that wouldn't do, for the first thing they knew the wind
would blow, blow, and down would come their home. So they hunt around in
the woods or along the rails and posts, for the nests in the wood that
have been deserted by the woodpecker, who has flown away to a milder
clime. If the Chickadees can not find these, they set to work themselves
and with great labor dig a hole in a tree, or post, for their winter
quarters. They prefer decayed trunks or posts so they can work more
easily. To the bottom of their holes they bring pieces of wool, moss, and
fea