50 DECEMBER OUT-OF-DOORS. 
the creeper, it must be owned, cannot speak 
without lisping. 
Following my usual practice, I began a 
catalogue of the month’s birds, and at the 
end of a fortnight discovered, to my aston- 
ishment, that the name of the downy wood- 
pecker was missing. He had been common 
during November, and is well known as one 
of our familiar winter residents. I began 
forthwith to keep a sharp lookout for him, 
particularly whenever I went near any apple 
orchard. A little later, I actually com- 
menced making excursions on purpose to 
find him. But the fates were against me, 
and go where I would, he was not there. 
At last I gave him up. Then, on the 27th, 
as I sat at my desk, a chickadee chirped 
outside. Of course I looked out to see him; 
and there, exploring the branches of an old 
apple-tree, directly under my window, was 
the black-and-white woodpecker for whom 
I had been searching in vain through five 
or six townships. The saucy fellow! He 
rapped smartly three or four times; then he 
straightened himself back, as woodpeckers 
do, and said: ‘*Good-morning, sir! Where 
have you been so long? If you wish to see 
