Birdcraft/Parus atricapillus

by Mabel Osgood Wright

Plate 10. 1. Yellow Warbler. Length, 4.75–5 inches. 2. Chickadee. Length, 5.50 inches.

Chickadee; Black-capped Titmouse: Parus atricapillus

Plate 10. No. 2.

Length:

5.60 inches.

Male and Female: No crest. Above gray with a brownish tinge.

Crown and nape, and chin and throat black ; sides of head white. Below white, shading to light gray with brown wash. Wings and tail gray with white edgings. Bill and feet lead-black.

Song:

Cheerful, conversational. “ Chickadee-deedee-dee!" varied in

winter with “Day, day, day ! “ and a whistle "Pears, pe—we."

Season:

A resident.

Breeds:

Nearly throughout its range.

Nest:

Made of all sorts of soft material,—wool, fur, feathers, and hair, placed in holes in tree stumps.

Eggs:

6—8, White, thickly sprinkled with warm brown.

Range:

Eastern North America, north of the Potomac and Ohio Valley.

This hardy little fellow, always cheery and lovable, is a familiar figure in our light woods and garden trees in autumn and winter, seeming, by his good-nature and energy, to be trying to console us, in a measure, for the loss of the tree-haunting summer Warblers.

The Chickadee adapts himself to all surroundings and to all circumstances, suiting his appetite to what he can find, when insects fail, taking kindly to seeds, berries, cone-kernels, and crumbs.

In the winter of 1891—92, when the cold was severe, the snow deep, and the tree trunks often covered with ice, the Chickadees repaired in flocks daily to the kennel of my old dog Colin and fed from his dish, hopping over his back and calling “Chickadee, dee, dee,” in his face,—proceedings that he never in the least resented, but seemed rather to enjoy.

Taking a hint from this, I made a compound of finely minced meat, waste canary seed, buckwheat, and cracked oats, which was scattered in a sheltered spot from which the snow had been swept. This bird-hash was rapidly consumed, and I was convinced during that season that it was a food suited to the needs of all our winter~birds, both seed and insect eaters finding in it what they required.

The Chickadee breaks the silence of many Winter days with his jovial notes, and fairly begs for companionship:—

Chicrchicadeedee! 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.”—R. W. Emerson.