ne of those second-hand opinions which a man who begins to observe for
himself soon finds it necessary to give up. With many birds life is a
hard struggle. Enemies are numerous, and the food supply is too often
scanty. Of some species it is probable that very few die in their beds.
But the chickadee seems to be exempt from all forebodings. His coat is
thick, his heart is brave, and, whatever may happen, something will be
found to eat. "Take no thought for the morrow" is his creed, which he
accepts, not "for substance of doctrine," but literally. No matter how
bitter the wind or how deep the snow, you will never find the chickadee,
as the saying is, under the weather. It is this perennial good humor, I
suppose, which makes other birds so fond of his companionship; and their
example might well be heeded by persons who suffer from fits of
depression. Such unfortunates could hardly do better than to court the
society of the joyous tit. His whistles and chirps, his graceful feats
of climbing and hanging, and withal his engaging familiarity (for, of
course, such good-nature as his could not consist with suspiciousness)
would most likely send them home in a more Christian mood. The time will
come, we may hope, when doctors will prescribe bird-gazing instead of
blue-pill.

To illustrate the chickadee's trustfulness, I may mention that a friend
of mine captured one in a butterfly-net, and, carrying him into the
house, let him loose in the sitting-room. The little stranger was at
home immediately, and seeing the window full of plants, proceeded to go
over them carefully, picking off the lice with which such window-gardens
are always more or less infested. A little later he was taken into my
friend's lap, and soon he climbed up to his shoulder; where, after
hopping about for a few minutes on his coat-collar, he selected a
comfortable roosting place, tucked his head under his wing, and went to
sleep, and slept on undisturbed while carried from one room to another.
Probably the chickadee's nature is not of the deepest. I have never seen
him when his joy rose to ecstasy. Still his feelings are not shallow,
and the faithfulness of the pair to each other and to their offspring is
of the highest order. The female has sometimes to be taken off the nest,
and even to be held in the hand, before the eggs can be examined.

Our American goldfinch is one of the loveliest of birds. With his
elegant plumage, his rhythmical, undulatory flight, hi