But this pole-life marks only half the dis- 

 tance that these birds have come from the 

 woods. 



One warm Sunday of a recent March, in the 

 middle of my morning sermon, a ghostly rap- 

 ping was heard through the meeting-house. I 

 paused. Tap, tap, tap ! hollow and ominous it 

 echoed. Every soul was awake in an instant. 

 Was it a summons from ? But two of the 

 small boys grinned ; some one whispered 

 "flicker"; and I gathered my ornithological 

 wits together in time to save the pause and 

 proceed with the service. 



After the people went home I found three 

 flicker-holes in the latticework over the north 

 windows. One of last year's tenants had got 

 back that morning from the South, and had 

 gone to work cleaning up and putting things 

 to rights in his house, regardless of Sabbath 

 and sermon. 



This approach of the flicker to domestic life 

 and human fellowship is an almost universal 

 movement among the birds. And no tendency 

 anywhere in wild life is more striking. The 

 four-footed animals are rapidly disappearing 

 [62] 



