(_Parus atricapillus_) Titmouse family
_Called also_: BLACK-CAPPED TITMOUSE; BLACK-CAP TIT
(Illustration facing p. 78)
_Length_--5 to 5.5 inches. About an inch smaller than the
English sparrow.
_Male and Female_--Not crested. Crown and nape and throat
black. Above gray, slightly tinged with brown. A white space,
beginning at base of bill, extends backward, widening over
cheeks and upper part of breast, forming a sort of collar that
almost surrounds neck. Underneath dirty white, with pale
rusty-brown wash on sides. Wings and tail gray, with white
edgings. Plumage downy.
_Range_--Eastern North America. North of the Carolinas to
Labrador. Does not migrate in the North.
_Migrations_--Late September. May. Winter resident; permanent
resident in northern parts of the United States.
No "fair weather friend" is the jolly little chickadee. In the depth
of the autumn equinoctial storm it returns to the tops of the trees
close by the house, where, through the sunshine, snow, and tempest of
the entire winter, you may hear its cheery, irrepressible
_chickadee-dee-dee-dee_ or _day-day-day_ as it swings around the
dangling cones of the evergreens. It fairly overflows with good
spirits, and is never more contagiously gay than in a snowstorm. So
active, so friendly and cheering, what would the long northern winters
be like without this lovable little neighbor?
It serves a more utilitarian purpose, however, than bracing
faint-hearted spirits. "There is no bird that compares with it in
destroying the female canker-worm moths and their eggs," writes a
well-known entomologist. He calculates that as a chickadee destroys
about 5,500 eggs in one day, it will eat 138,750 eggs in the
twenty-five days it takes the canker-worm moth to crawl up the trees.
The moral that it pays to attract chickadees about your home by
feeding them in winter is obvious. Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright, in her
delightful and helpful book "Birdcraft," tells us how she makes a sort
of a bird-hash of finely minced raw meat, waste canary-seed,
buckwheat, and cracked oats, which she scatters in a sheltered spot
for all the winter birds. The way this is consumed leaves no doubt of
its popularity. A raw bone, hung from an evergreen limb, is equally
appreciated.
Friendly as the chickadee is--and Dr. Abbott declares it the tamest
bird we have--it prefers well-timbered districts, especially where
there are red-bud trees, when it is time to nest. It is very often
clever enough to leave the labor of hollowing out a nest in the
tree-trunk to the woodpecker or nuthatch, whose old homes it readily
appropriates; or, when these birds object, a knot-hole or a hollow
fence-rail answers every purpose. Here, in the summer woods, when
family cares beset it, a plaintive, minor whistle replaces the
_chickadee-dee-dee_ that Thoreau likens to "silver tinkling" as he
heard it on a frosty morning.
"Piped a tiny voice near by,
Gay and polite, a cheerful cry--
Chick-chickadeedee! saucy note
Out of sound heart and merry throat,
As if it said, 'Good-day, good Sir!
Fine afternoon, old passenger!
Happy to meet you in these places
Where January brings few faces.'"
--_Emerson._