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 66 THE _ CONDOR I VOT,. VIII The .day was warm. We built a little promenade from the front door and set one of the youngsters blinking in the sunshine. He soon got his beatings. He liked it and looked so perked-up and proud. Then we set out another and another, seven in all. I believe there's more family 19re in a chickadee's household than in any other bird home I've visited. I've seen a young flicker jab at his brother in real devilish madness, but I never saw two chickadees come to blows. Of course, when young chickadees are hungry, they will cry for food just as any child. Not one of the seven was the least backward in asserting his rights when a morsel of food was in sight. Each honestly believed his turn was next. Once or twice I saw what CopyriIfht Photo, i9o2, by H. T. Bohlman and  L. Finley looked like a real family jar. Each one of the seven was alamoring for food as the mother hovered over. She herself must have forgotten whose turn it was, for she hung beneath the perch a moment to think. How she ever told one from the other, so as to divide the meals evenly, I don't know. There was only one chick I could recognize--that was pigeon-toed, tousled-headed Johnnie. We trudged up the canyon early the next morning. Four of the flock had left the nest and taken to the bushes. Three staid in the clump while we focused the camera. It is rare indeed when one catches a real clear photograph of bird home-lite, such as a mother just placing a green cut-worm in the mouth of a hungry chick; an unusual look of satisfaction on the face of the second bantling,