160 WINTER NEIGHBORS. 



knew which tree to tap and where to tap it. I saw 

 where he had bored several maples in the vicinity, 

 but no oaks or chestnuts. I nailed up a fat bone 

 near his sap-works : the downy woodpecker came 

 there several times a day to dine ; the nut-hatch came, 

 and even the snow-bird took a taste occasionally ; but 

 this sap-sucker never touched it; the sweet of the 

 tree sufficed for him. This woodpecker does not 

 breed or abound in my vicinity; only stray speci- 

 mens are now and then to be met with in the colder 

 months. As spring approached, the one I refer to 

 took his departure. 



I must bring my account of my neighbor in the tree 

 down to the latest date ; so after the lapse of a year 

 I add the following notes. The last day of February 

 was bright and springlike. I heard the first sparrow 

 sing that morning and the first screaming of the cir- 

 cling hawks, and about seven o'clock the first drum- 

 ming of my little friend. His first notes were un- 

 certain and at long intervals, but by and by he warmed 

 up and beat a lively tattoo. As the season advanced 

 he ceased to lodge in his old quarters. I would rap 

 and find nobody at home. Was he out on a lark, I 

 said, the spring fever working in his blood ? After a 

 time his drumming grew less frequent, and finally, in 

 the middle of April, ceased entirely. Had some ac- 

 cident befallen him, or had he wandered away to 

 fresh fields, following some siren of his species? 

 Probably the latter. Another bird that I had under 

 observation also left his winter-quarters in the spring. 



