XIV 



THE GOLDEN-WINGED WOODPECKER 



THE migrant woodpecker whose cheery 

 cackle assures us of the certainty of 

 spring is rich in names that well befit 

 him. If you take to high-sounding 

 titles for your humble friends, you will 

 accept Colaptes aurattis, as he flies above 

 you, borrowing more gold of the sun- 

 beams that shine through his yellow 

 pinions, or will be content to call him 

 simply golden-winged. When he flashes 

 his wings in straight-away flight before 

 you, or sounds his sharp, single note of 

 alarm, or peers down from the door of 

 his lofty tower, or hangs on its wooden 

 wall, or clinging to a fence stake displays 

 his mottled back, yo'u recognize the fit- 

 ness of each name the country folk have 

 given him flicker, yellow-hammer, yar- 

 rup, highhole or highholder, and what 

 Thoreau often termed him, partridge- 

 woodpecker. It is a wonder that the 

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