98 BIRD PARADISE ^ 



daylight. The regular hour as I have observed 

 him year after year is just at break of day. The 

 call is sounded from high in the air, and a few 

 minutes later I see the fellows dropping down a 

 sort of mythical stairway, swaying back and forth 

 as they descend. After their long flight — ^per- 

 haps through the entire nig'ht — I look for weari- 

 ness, but nothing of the kind appears. They 

 seem as fresh as though the night had been spent 

 in sleep rather than in flight. I have a notion 

 that the flight of birds is restful to them rather 

 than a burden. It is native air and native effort, 

 both stimulating — rarely ever a task. 



It is but seldom that the flicker comes into my 

 lawn and makes himself entirely at home. When 

 he does, he recommends himself as one of my 

 most interesting bird parishioners. The other 

 day I noticed that there was considerable excite- 

 ment among the robins. They flew to and fro, 

 giving their loud sharp cry, and seemed possessed 

 of the idea that their homes were invaded by 

 some enemy. I looked around for the cause of 

 the extra excitement, and finally discovered that 

 a flicker had come in upon the lawn and was busy 

 satisfying what appeared to be a pretty large ap- 

 petite. He had selected a place only a few feet 



