as straight ; at others flying out and back in an ellipse, horizontally or obliquely 

 up in the air or down over the ground. But oftener than all, perhaps, it flew 

 down onto the ground to pick up something which its sharp eyes had discovered 

 there. Once it brought up some insect, hit it against the rail, gave a business-lika 

 hop and flew off to feed its young. 



The young left the nest between my visits, but when, chancing to focus my 

 glass on a passing wood])ecker. I discovered that its head was gray instead of red. 

 I knew for a certainty what had happened. The fledgling seemed already much 

 at home on its wings. It flew out into the air, caught a white miller and went 

 back to the tree with it, shaking it and then rapping it vigorously against a branch 

 before venturing to swallow it. When the youngster flew, I followed, rousing a 

 robin who made such an outcry that one of the old redheads flew over in alarm. 

 "Kik-a-rik, kik-a-rik," it cried, as it hurried from tree to tree, trying to keep an 

 eye on me while looking for the youngster. Neither of us could find it for some 

 time, but after looking in vain over the west side of a big tree I rounded the 

 trunk and found it calmly sitting on a branch on the east side — which goes to 

 prove that it is never safe to say a woodpecker isn't on a tree, till you have seen 

 both sides ! 



The old redhead found the lost fledgling about the time I did and flew 

 over to it with what looked like a big grub. At the delectable sight, the youngster 

 dropped all its airs of independence, and with weak infantile cries turned and 

 opened wide its bill ! 



Two days later I found two birds that may have been father and son, on the 

 side of a flagpole, out in the big wide world together. The old bird's head glowed 

 crimson in the strong sunlight, and it was fortunate indeed that only friends 

 were by. 



The striking tricolor makes the redheads such good targets that they are 

 in especial danger from human enemies and need loyal, valiant defenders where 

 ever they live. And what a privilege it is to have birds of such interesting habits 

 and beautiful plumage in your neighborhood! How the long country roads are 

 enlivened, how the green fields are lit up, as one of the brilliant birds rises from 

 a fence-post and flies over them! In the city, it is rare good luck, indeed, to have 

 a pair nest in an oak where you can watch them ; and even a passing glimpse or 

 an occasional visit is something to be thankful for. 



"There's the redhead!" you exclaim exultantly, when a loud tattoo beats on 

 your city roof in spring. And "There's the redhead!" you cry with delight, as 

 a soft "kikarik" conies from a leafless oak you are passing in winter ; and the city 

 street, so dull and unintercstin.u before, is suddenly illuininatod by the sight. 



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