"'What a pity!' said the little girl, as we flew away laughing to ourselves. 'They stopped to play and they lost the bits of moss and feathers with which they meant to make their nest!' "'Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee!' called back my wife happily." All this time Phyllis's eyes were growing rounder and bigger. "Why," said she, "I never knew there was but one bird performing on the fence. I thought the other flew away!" "That was because Mrs. Chickadee and I look so much alike," replied Mr. Chickadee. "But we did find your nest a few days later," said Phyllis. "In it were six small white eggs covered with tiny red specks. We went to look at the nest every day until the eggs hatched. Then we went several times a day until the baby birds learned to fly and left the nest empty. "But you did not disturb us," said the chickadee, "though we were dreadfully frightened at first." At that moment a great soft snowball went plump! against Phyllis's red cap. "Jack!" she cried, scrambling off the fence and running after the boy with the scratch on his nose. "Jack, take me for a ride on your sled!" Then she looked back. The chickadee now sat in the tree-top. "Tell Mrs. Chickadee," called Phyllis, "that I shall spread some more crumbs and seeds on the white table-cloth this afternoon. We'll hang another bone in the cedar-tree, too!" "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" cried the little bird in a flutter of delight. TWENTY LITTLE CHICKADEES Twenty little chickadees, Sitting in a row; Twenty pairs of naked feet Buried in the snow. I should think you'd fly away Where the weather's warm, Then you wouldn't have to be Out there in the storm. Sorry little chickadees, Don't you know the way? Can't you find the road to go Where 'tis always May? Robins all have found it out, Wrens and bluebirds too, Don't you wish you'd thought to ask Ere away they flew? THE SNOWBIRD'S SONG[1] The ground was all covered with snow, one day, And two little sisters were busy at play-- A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee! He had not been singing that tune very long, When Emily heard him, so loud was his song. "Oh, sister, look out of the window!" said she, "Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-dee! "Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet, I wonder what makes him so full of his glee, And why he keeps singing, his chick-a-de-dee. "If I were a barefooted snowbird, I know, I would not stay out in the cold and the snow. I pity him so! Oh, how cold he must be, And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-dee. "Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat, let him choose. I wish he'd come into the parlour, and see How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee!"