ns
he could not see, he would remember the bulky load he carried that
morning without minding the weight a bit; for it was a big bag full of
Christmas gifts, and the more heavily it pressed against his shoulder,
the lighter his heart felt.

When he reached the orchard, he dropped the bag on the snow and opened
it. Part of the gifts he spilled in a heap near the foot of a tree, and
the rest he tied here and there to the branches. Then he stood still and
whistled a clear sweet note that sounded like "Fee-bee."

Now, Chick, over by the willows had not known what BOOOOOOOM meant, for
that was not in his language. But he understood "Fee-bee" in a minute,
although it was not nearly so loud. For those were words he often used
himself. They meant, perhaps, many things; but always something
pleasant. "Fee-bee" was a call he recognized as surely as one boy
recognizes the signal whistle of his chum.

So, of course, Chick flew to the orchard as quickly as he could and
found his present tied fast to a branch. The smell of it, the feel of
it, the taste of it, set him wild with joy. He picked at it with his
head up, and sang "Chick, D.D." He picked at it with his head down and
called, "Chick, D.D.D.D.D.D.D., Chick, D.D." He flew here and there, too
gay with happiness to stay long anywhere, and found presents tied to
other branches, too. At each one he sang "Chick, D.D., Chick, D.D.D. Dee
Deee Deeee." It was, "indeed" the song of a hungry bird who had found
good rich suet to nibble.

The Farmer Boy smiled when he heard it, and waited, for he thought
others would hear it, too. And they did. Two birds with black-feather
cap and bib heard it and came; and before they had had time to go
frantic with delight and song, three others just like them came, and
then eight more, and by that time there was such a "Chick"-ing and
"D.D."-ing and such a whisking to and fro of black caps and black bibs,
that no one paid much attention when Minister Chick, D.D., himself,
perched on a branch for a minute, and gave the sweetest little warble
that was ever heard on a winter's day. Then he whistled "Fee-bee" very
clearly, and went to eating again, heeding the Farmer Boy no more than
if he were not there at all.

And he wasn't there very long; for he was hungry, too; and that made him
think about the good whiff he had smelled when he went through the
kitchen with the snowshoes under his arm, just before he strapped them
over his moccasins outside the d