How often, on still, sultry nights in July, when scarcely a breath of air is stirring among the foliage of the trees, when the humming of the Moth might be plainly heard, as it glided by my open window, have I been charmed with the voice of this little bird, uttered in a low, trilled note, from the branch of some neighboring tree!  He seems to be the sentinel whom Nature has appointed to watch for the first gleam of dawn, which he always faithfully announces before any other bird has begun to stir.  Two or three strains from his octave pipe are the signal for a general awakening of the birds, and one by one they join the song, until the whole air resounds with an harmonious medley of voices.  The Hair-Bird has a singular habit of sitting upon the ground, while chirping in the early morning.  His nest is placed commonly upon an apple-tree, sometimes in a bush, but never on the ground.  It is very neatly constructed of the fibres of roots closely woven together, and beautifully lined with fine soft hair, whence he has obtained his name.  It is not surpassed in neatness and beauty by the nest of any other bird.

I will leave the granivorous birds to speak of another class, equally hardy, but of habits more like those of the Woodpecker.  I allude to the Chicadees, to whose lively notes we are indebted for a great part of the cheerfulness of a winter’s walk.  These notes are not a song; but there is a liveliness in their sound, most frequently uttered during a pleasant winter-day, causing them to be associated with these agreeable changes in the weather.  The Chicadees are not seen, like Snow-Birds, most numerous during a snow-storm, or after a fall of snow.  Their habits are nearly the same in all weathers, except that they are more prone to be noisy and loquacious on pleasant, sunny days.

The sounds from which the Chicadee has derived his name appear to be his call-notes, like the crowing of a Cock or the gobbling of a Turkey, and are probably designed by Nature to enable the birds, while scattered singly over the forest, to signalize their presence to others of the same species.  Hence it may be observed, that, when the call is rapidly repeated, a multitude of his kindred will immediately assemble around the one that gave the alarm.  When no alarm is intended to be given, the bird utters these notes but seldom, and only as he passes from one tree to another.  He is probably accustomed to hearing a response, and, if one is not soon heard, he will repeat his call until it is answered; for as these birds do not forage the woods in flocks, this continual hailing is carried on between them to satisfy their desire for each other’s company.  A similar conversation passes between the individuals of a flock of Chickens, when scattered over a farmyard; one, on finding itself alone, will chirp until it hears a response, when it seems immediately satisfied.  The call-notes of the Chicadee are very lively, with a mixture of querulousness in their tone, that renders them the more pleasing.