by the falling
snow.

VIII

A BIRDS' FREE LUNCH

One winter, during four or five weeks of severe weather, several of
our winter birds were pensioners upon my bounty,--three blue jays,
two downy woodpeckers, three chickadees, and one kinglet,--and
later a snowbird--junco--appeared.

I fastened pieces of suet and marrow-bones upon the tree in front
of my window, then, as I sat at my desk, watched the birds at their
free lunch. The jays bossed the woodpeckers, the woodpeckers bossed
the chickadees, and the chickadees bossed the kinglet.

Sometimes in my absence a crow would swoop down and boss the
whole crew and carry off the meat. The kinglet was the least of
all,--a sort of "hop-o'-my-thumb" bird. He became quite tame, and
one day alighted upon my arm as I stood leaning against the tree.
I could have put my hand upon him several times. I wonder where
the midget roosted. He was all alone. He liked the fare so well
that he seemed disposed to stop till spring. During one terrible
night of wind and snow and zero temperature I feared he would be
swept away. I thought of him in the middle of the night, when the
violence of the storm kept me from sleep. Imagine this solitary
atom in feathers drifting about in the great arctic out-of-doors
and managing to survive. I fancied him in one of my thick
spruces, his head under his tiny wing, buffeted by wind and snow,
his little black feet clinging to the perch, and wishing that
morning would come.

The fat meat is fuel for him; it keeps up the supply of animal
heat. None of the birds will eat lean meat; they want the clear
fat. The jays alight upon it and peck away with great vigor,
almost standing on tiptoe to get the proper sweep. The woodpecker
uses his head alone in pecking, but the jay's action involves the
whole body. Yet his blows are softer, not so sharp and abrupt as
those of the woodpecker. Pecking is not exactly his business.

He swallows the morsel eagerly, watching all the time lest some
enemy surprise him in the act. Indeed, one noticeable thing about
all the birds is their nervousness while eating. The chickadee
turns that bead-like eye of his in all directions incessantly,
lest something seize him while he is not looking. He is not off
his guard for a moment. It is almost painful to observe the state
of fear in which he lives. He will not keep his place upon the
bone longer than a few seconds at a time lest he become a mark
for some enemy,--a hawk,