nestlings, while the mother was hurry- 
ing over the lower branches of the | 
same tree, collecting food for one 
youngster. Suddenly the song ceased, 
and the tiny papa joined the family 
party below, and addressed himself 
with his usual energy to the business | 
of filling that greedy mouth. 
Over and under and around and 
through the branches he rushed, every 
few seconds returning to stuff a morsel 
into the always hungry mouth, till he | 
actually reduced that infant to silence, 
and then he slipped away, returned to 
his tree top, and resumed his lovely | 
“tee-tee-tweetum!”’ 
Somewhat later I heard the baby 
black-throats at their practice, droll, 
quavering attempts to imitate the mu- 
sical song of their father. They soon 
mastered the notes, but the spirit was 
as yet far beyond them. 
This happy life went on before my 
window till, almost at the end of July, 
a heavy fog swept in one evening from 
the ocean, and when, the next day, a 
cool north wind blew it back whence 
it came, it seemed to take the whole 
tribe of warblers with it. August was 
now upon the threshold, and in the 
bird world at least 
‘‘Summer like a bird had flown.’’ 
FIVE LITTLE WOODMEN. 
EK. F. MOSBY. 
UT of the woods they come, vis- 
&) iting our homes wherever they 
see a standing invitation in the 
shape ofa tree. But each one 
has his preferences. One likes the 
evergreens best, another the bare trunk 
where it is easy to break the bark, and 
still another likes a fresh tree like the 
magnolia, glossy and full of life even in 
winter. 
birds? Yes; and the small downy 
woodpecker comes first, and in all 
weathers. The other day after a sun- 
rise of gold and a splendid rainbow 
arch, swiftly blotted out by a black 
storm with scudding rain and flying 
leaves, I caught sight of a tiny downy, 
You have guessed these are | 
in the very heart of all the uproar of | 
the elements, busily pecking his way 
up a tree near my window. On an- 
other winter day, sunny and calm, he 
came flying overhead with a loud rat- 
tling note that spoke of good cheer in 
most neighborly fashion. Itisa family, 
at the very least, that visits us. There 
are variations in size, if I mistake not, 
and one day a pair arrived together; the 
female with her glossy black velvet 
crown almost as handsome with her 
broad white satin stripe down the mid- 
dle, and black and white markings, as 
her mate, who, indeed, only outshines 
her by the lovely band of red on the 
head or nape of his neck, as you choose 
to call it. I fancy she is the more anx- 
ious housekeeper. At least, it was her 
persistent call-note, rather sharpin tone, 
that drew me from my lounge to watch 
her quick movements on the bark, and 
it is she that more quickly takes flight. 
He seems never disturbed by his in- 
quisitive human neighbors, nor even 
the impudent sparrows—though he can 
send these to the right about if he 
pleases—and his tap, tap, tap, like a 
small drummer on the tree-trunk, is 
always pleasant to hear. I am glad to 
know they both havea cozy little home, 
a hole on the southern side of a tree, 
where the sun shines on good days, 
and fancy them tucked into round balls 
of feathers, only to be distinguished by 
the red on top, and comfortably asleep, 
when neither pleasure nor necessity in- 
vites them abroad. 
The yellow-bellied sapsucker is also 
a winter guest, but he is far more timid 
than the downy, and I have often seen 
him routed by the sparrows or scared 
off by a sudden sound. The male is 
very gay in plumage, with much mottled 
yellowish brown on back, conspicuous 
white stripes on wings, beautiful clear 
yellow and black in front, scarlet on his 
