202 TWO LITTLE DEUMMEES. 



ing to him the strange epithet "squealing," I 

 must allow, for the bird has a peculiar voice, 

 nasal enough for the conventional Brother Jon- 

 athan; but "sapsucker" is, in the opinion of 

 many who have studied his ways, undeserved. 

 Dr. Merriam, even while admitting that the 

 birds do taste the sap, says positively, "It is 

 my firm belief that their chief object in making 

 these holes is to secure the insects which gather 

 about them." 



My introduction to the subject of my study 

 took place just after sundown on a beautiful 

 June evening. We were riding up from the 

 railway station, three miles away. The horses 

 had climbed to the top of the last hill, and trotted 

 gayly through a belt of fragrant woods which 

 reached like an arm around from the forest 

 behind, as if lovingly inclosing the attractive 

 scene, a pleasant, old-fashioned homestead, 

 with ample lawn sloping down toward the valley 

 we had left, and looking away over low hills to 

 the apparently unbroken forests of the Adiron- 

 dacks. 



At this moment there arose a loud, strange 

 cry, of distress it seemed, and I turned hastily 

 to see a black and white bird, with bright red 

 crown and throat, bounding straight up the 

 trunk of an elm -tree, throwing back his head at 

 every jerk with a comical suggestion of Jack's 



