These birds, though so tiny, are among the most useful to us, because they spy out and destroy the insect eggs hidden in crevices of bark, or under leaves. Bigger birds might not care to pick up such small things, or their beaks might be too clumsy to get at them.
When you see a chickadee scrambling over a tree, hanging head down with all sorts of antics, he is no doubt hunting out the eggs. These eggs, if left, would hatch out into hungry insects, to eat the leaves or fruit, or to injure and perhaps kill the tree. The nuthatch clears up the trunk and large limbs, and the chickadee does the same for the small branches and around the leaves.
It has been found out that one pair of chickadees with their young will destroy five hundred pests, such as caterpillars, flies, and grubs, every day. No man could do so much, if he gave his whole time to it. Besides, he could not go over the whole tree as a bird does, without doing harm to it. A chickadee hops along the small branches and twigs, looking under every leaf, sometimes hanging head down to see the under side, and picks up every insect or egg. Among his dainties are the eggs of the leaf-rolling caterpillar, the canker-worm, and the apple-tree moth,—all very troublesome creatures.
The Tufted Titmouse is more common in the South and West than his cousin, the chickadee, and he is one of the prettiest of the family. He is dressed in soft gray, with a fine, showy, pointed crest. His ways are something like the chickadee's, but he is, perhaps, even bolder and more pert, and he is easily tamed. All his notes are loud and clear, and he is never for a moment still.
In winter, this bird is found in little flocks of a dozen or more. These are probably all of one family, the parents and their two broods of the year. He is one of the birds who stores up food for a time when food is scarce. In summer, he eats only insects.
The tufted titmouse, like others of his race, has a great deal of curiosity. I have heard of one who came into a house through an open window. It was a female titmouse in search of a good place for a nest. After she had been in all the rooms, and helped herself to whatever she found that was good to eat, she seemed to decide that it was a land of plenty and she would stay.
The stranger settled upon a hanging basket as nice to build in. The family did not disturb her, and she brought in her materials and made her nest. She had even laid two or three eggs, when the people began to take too much interest in her affairs, and the bird thought it best to move to a safer place.
Another of these birds in Ohio, looking about for something nice and soft to line her nest, pitched upon a gentleman's hair. Unfortunately, he had need of the hair himself; but the saucy little titmouse didn't mind that. She alighted on his head, seized a beakful, and then bracing herself on her stout little legs, she actually jerked out the lock, and flew away with it. So well did she like it that she came back for more. The gentleman was a bird-lover, and was pleased to give some of his hair to such a brave little creature.