t
when the cold skating days come. He says that Jack Frost is a fellow's
best friend."

"Indeed," said the jolly little chickadee, blinking his eyes in a funny
way, "my brothers say the very same thing!"

"But how do you find anything to eat in the winter-time?" Phyllis
asked. "The insects and worms have long been dead. What did you have
for breakfast this morning?"

"We had eggs and--"

"Eggs?" cried Phyllis, not waiting for the bird to finish. "You had
eggs?"

"Yes, moth's eggs," said the bird. "The moths leave their eggs about
in all sorts of places. We chickadees know where to find them!"

"Are they--good?" asked Phyllis.

"Delicious!" replied the chickadee. "I think I have eaten more than a
million insects' eggs in my life. I shall never tire of them."

"Where do you sleep?" Phyllis asked.

"In the fir-trees, to be sure," was the reply. "It is quite warm in
there, among the many branches, and as soon as we waken we can get our
breakfasts. There are all sorts of eggs and sleeping insects among the
fir branches."

Phyllis looked from her own thick red leggings to the chickadee's light
blue legs.

"Don't your feet get very cold?" she asked. "You surely need some
leggings."

The chickadee chirruped and twittered and fluttered until Phyllis
suddenly saw that he was laughing at her.

"I don't know what cold feet are!" he said. "I'm glad no one gave me
red leggings for Christmas."

"What did you get for Christmas?"

"A wonderfully fine dinner spread on a white snow table-cloth under the
cherry-tree!" replied the bird.

"Oh, did you come to my bird feast?" cried the little girl. "I spread
crumbs and bird seed for you. Jack wanted to hang a meat bone in the
cedar-tree. He said that you would like it better. Indeed, I believe
he did hang one there. Did you ever see it?"

"Oh, yes, Phyllis, many a day have we pecked away at that meat bone.
It was really very good."

"Jack read in a book that you were fond of pecking at meat bones. He
will be glad to know that it is true!"

"Thank him for us," said the chickadee. "You were kind to remember us!"

"Ah," said Phyllis, "but it was kind of you to remain behind to cheer
us when all the other birds have gone to warmer lands.

"But, chickadee, though you are so cheery and gay in winter, are you
not really happier in the summer-time?"

"Oh, we are so busy in summer," the chickadee replied. "Last May I
travelled miles and miles looking