THE SAPSUCKER. 



My Dear Young Friends : 



During the long summer days, 

 when you were enjoying golden 

 vacation hours, I often took a 

 peep at you from some dead tree 

 limb or the side of a hemlock or 

 beech. You saw me, perhaps, 

 and were surprised at my 

 courage ; for other small birds 

 whose voices you heard, but 

 whose tiny bodies escaped your 

 young eyes, appeared very timid 

 in comparison. 



But I am not so brave, after 

 all, and know full well when my 

 red hat is in danger. I am a 

 good flyer, too, and can soon put 

 a wide space between myself 

 and certain wicked boys, who, I 

 hope, by next vacation time will 

 have learned so much about us 

 that they will love every little 

 feathered creature, and not seek 

 to do them any harm. 



Can you guess why I have 

 such a queer name? I really 

 ought to be popular in Illinois, 

 for they tell me it is called the 

 Sucker State, and that the peo- 

 ple are proud of it. Well, I am 

 called Sapsucker because much, 

 if not most, of my food consists 

 of the secret juices which flow 

 through the entire body of the 

 tree which you probably saw 

 me running up and down and 



around. But you saw me, you 

 say, very often on dead branches 

 of trees, and surely they had no 

 sap in them? No, but if you 

 will look closely into my actions, 

 you will see that I destroy many 

 insects which drill their way 

 into the wood and deposit their 

 eggs. In my opinion, I do far 

 more good than harm, though 

 you will find some people who 

 think otherwise. 



Then, again, if there is utility 

 in beauty, surely I am a benefit 

 to every one. One day I heard 

 a lady say that she never saw 

 my head pop up from behind an 

 old stump without bursting into 

 laughter, I looked so funny. 

 Now I took that as a compli- 

 ment ; for to give pleasure to 

 those around us, I have heard, 

 is one of our highest duties. 



Next summer when you seek 

 the pleasant places where I 

 dwell, in the old deadening 

 where the trees wear girdles 

 around them ; in the open groves, 

 where I flit from tree to tree; in 

 the deep wooded districts, 

 whence one hears the tinkling 

 ripple of running waters, you 

 may, if good and gentle, see pop 

 up behind a stump the red hat of 



SAPSUCKER. 



143 



