ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE BIRD. 233 
that eye has which can see insect eggs a half inch 
away and distinguish the bark of an elm several rods 
off ! 
The third winter only one came. It had a little 
“chit” of a call, and the children wondered if it were 
talking of its absent mate. It took the same trees in 
the same regular order that the others had, and we 
felt that it was one of the old friends. It was re- 
markable to note how much like the tree bark the 
backs of these birds were. Since they are so strik- 
ingly color-protected and build their nests in secluded 
places in the deep woods and lay many eggs, it seems 
strange that they should be so rare. 
Over the rough bark of these same trees the nut- 
hatches frequently crawl also. They are little bluish- 
gray birds, with white undervests—sometimes a little 
soiled. Their tails are ridiculously short, and never 
touch the tree; neither does the body, unless they are 
suddenly affrighted, when they crouch and look, with 
their beaks extended, much like a knot with a broken 
twig in it. I have sometimes put the bird into this 
attitude by clapping my hands loudly near the win- 
dow. It is an impulse that seems to come to the bird 
before flight, especially if the head should be down- 
ward. 
This bird’s arrival is sudden, and seems often to 
be distinguished by turning a somersault before alight- 
ing, head downward, on the tree trunk, as if he had 
changed his mind so suddenly about alighting that it 
unbalanced him. 
In the woods this busybody is “ quanking ” much 
