MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



tree. Like all of nature's children, he is well 

 equipped for his work. His strong bill makes an 

 excellent chisel, and his long, barbed tongue is 

 admirably suited to spearing insect prey. Listen 

 to the vigorous rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat of the 

 little bill. It always seems to me as if a neu- 

 ralgic headache must be the natural outcome of 

 such an energetic hammering and probing of the 

 bark. 



But remarkable as are the downy woodpecker's 

 acrobatic feats, they are easily surpassed by those 

 of that little gray neighbor of his who is walking 

 not backing down the trunk of the opposite 

 tree. This is the white-breasted nut-hatch. 

 " Quank, quank, you can't do this," he seems to 

 be saying to the industrious, upward-travelling 

 woodpecker. Would it not seem as if all the 

 blood in the little gray body must rush to its 

 owner's head during this state of inversion! 



His name tells us that he is not altogether 

 dependent on larvae and insects for his food. 

 Chestnuts, beech-nuts, and even nuts with hard 

 shells may form part of his menu. His strong 

 little bill is the hatchet with which he splits the 

 nuts open as they lodge in the tree-crannies where 

 he himself has wedged them; or again he holds 

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