WINTER NEIGHBORS. 75 



Kif 



joining orchards, each of which has a like home and 

 leads a like solitary life. One of them has excavated 

 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, commodious chamber, but had 

 again come too near the surface ; 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 aban- 

 doned the tree. Passing there one cold, rainy Novem- 

 ber day, I thrust in my two fingers and was surprised 

 to feel something soft and warm : as I drew away my 

 hand the bird came out, apparently no more surprised 

 than I was. It had decided, then, to make its home 

 in the old limb ; a decision it had occasion to regret, 

 for not long after, on a stormy night, the branch gave 

 way and fell to the ground. 



" When the hough hreaks the cradle will fall, 

 And down will come baby, cradle and all." 



Such a cavity makes a snug, warm home, and whel* 

 :the entrance is on the under side of the limb, as is 

 usual, the wind and snow cannot reach the occupant. 

 Late in December, while crossing a high, wooded 

 mountain, lured by the music of fox-hounds, I dis- 

 covered fresh yellow chips strewing the new-fallen 

 snow, and at once thought of my woodpeckers. On 

 looking around I saw where one had been at work 

 excavating a lodge in a small yellow birch. The ori- 



