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The musical and merry "chickadee-dee-dee" of the tamest of the birds of winter and the somewhat sadder note of the wood pewee mingled with the occasional caw of a crow, the shrill cry of a jay, or the tapping of woodpeckers upon the boles of dead trees. A flock of snow-bunting fluttered and fed in a patch of dry seed-laden weeds.
"Isn't that a Nuthatch now?" asked Nat. "There hanging to the end tassel of the big spruce; and a lot more above do come and look, Olive." "No, Nattie, they are the Chickadees that father said, a moment ago, you might mistake for Nuthatches." "Chickadee-dee-dee!" said a bird, looking at the children with one eye. The White-breasted Nuthatch Length about six inches. Upper parts grayish-blue.
Who but our rotund friend and lover of all things fat, lord of the manor of Chickadee-dee-dee which he has taught the neighbouring dicky-birds, who sit around the house, to repeat aloud in honour of " "For Heaven's sake, Louis! How are you, Hamil?" grunted Portlaw, extending a heavily cushioned, highly coloured hand of welcome.
The Chickadees did not mind the conversation in the least, but kept on flitting in and out of the spruces, swinging from the little pink buds that would grow into cones by and by, doing a dozen pretty tricks, and all the time calling "chickadee-dee-dee" as if they were repeating a joke among themselves. "They mean we shall know their name, anyway," said Nat. "Have they any other song?"
"Why, you don't mean " "Indeed I do mean it, every single word. Yesterday I was flitting about among the trees, pecking at a dead branch here, and a bit of moss there, and before I knew it I found myself away over at the other side of the woods! 'Chickadee-dee-dee, chickadee-dee-dee! I sang, as I turned my bill toward home. Just then I heard the saddest little voice pipe out: 'Dear-ie me!
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