152 WINTER NEIGHBORS. 



disturb me so often." After sundown, he will not 

 put his head out any more when I call, but as I step 

 away I can get a glimpse of him inside looking cold 

 and reserved. He is a late riser, especially if it is a 

 cold or disagreeable morning, in this respect being 

 like the barn fowls ; it is sometimes near nine o'clock 

 before I see him leave his tree. On the other hand, 

 he conies home early, being in if the day is unpleas- 

 ant by four P. M. He lives all alone ; in this respect 

 I do not commend his example. Where his mate is 

 I should like to know. 



I have discovered several other woodpeckers in 

 adjoining orchards, each of which has a like home 

 and leads a like solitary life. One of them has ex- 

 cavated a dry limb within easy reach of my hand, 

 doing the work also in September. But the choice 

 of tree was not a good one ; the limb was too much 

 decayed, and the workman had made the cavity too 

 large ; a chip had come out, making a hole in the 

 outer wall. Then he went a few inches down the 

 limb and began again, and excavated a large, commo- 

 dious chamber, but had again come too near the sur- 

 face ; scarcely more than the bark protected him in 

 one place, and the limb was very much weakened. 

 Then he made another attempt still farther down the 

 limb, and drilled in an inch or two, but seemed to 

 change his mind ; the work stopped, and I concluded 

 the bird had wisely abandoned the tree. Passing 

 there one cold, rainy November day, I thrust in my 

 two fingers and was surprised to feel something 



