Tomtitters

John Sprunt Hill, Durham banker and industrialist, is one of North Carolina's richest citizens. He is also a State Senator. One day last fortnight grey-haired John Sprunt Hill rose from his desk in the Senate chamber at Raleigh, hunched his venerable shoulders and sang out loud & clear: "Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee-dee."

No sudden madness had gripped the distinguished Senator. At its annual convention North Carolina's State Federation of Women's Clubs had pondered the fact that Alabama has officially adopted the flicker as its State bird, Massachusetts the veery, West Virginia the tufted titmouse. North Carolina was one of only five States without an official bird. That deficiency, concluded the federated ladies, should be supplied at once. Winner of a Statewide newspaper poll had been the Carolina chickadee, small cousin of the little grey-white-&-black bird which cheers many a northern farmer's wife with its pert midwinter chirpings. The Federation then asked the Legislature to elect the chickadee.

The legislators, busy setting an all-time record of introducing nearly 2,500 bills in 132 days, relaxed when the chickadee resolution came up. Senator George McNeill of Fayetteville trooped over to the State museum, brought back a stuffed chickadee to enlighten his urban colleagues. Senator Capus Waynick, editor of the High Point Enterprise, listened to Senator Hill's imitative calls, rose up to declare that the Carolina mockingbird was a better singer. In the House someone told Salisbury's veteran Representative Walter Pete Murphy that the chickadee eats insects. "For God's sake," cried he, "don't turn the chickadee loose on this House."

When legislative wit had run its course both houses suspended their rules, conferred official status upon the chickadee. Then it was the State's turn to have fun. The chickadee is a member of the titmouse family. Editors remembered "Little Tommy Tittlemouse" who "lived in a little house," began to refer to the "Tomtit Legislature." Clubs and societies stirred uneasily at the prospect of North Carolina's becoming known as the "tomtit State."

The legislators withstood the waggish barrage for ten days. Then another bill was quietly introduced. Very quickly, with no voice raised in opposition, North Carolina's Senate & House last week repealed the chickadee.

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