174 My Favourite Summer- Houses. 



that pine wood looked in white ? Still and calm, like 

 a fairy world of silence and wonder, where no sound 

 may mar the witchery of effect. No, not quite so; 

 listen, what is that ? Is it the snow with crispy whis- 

 pering, or are the sounds ghostly, or are there spirits 

 abroad ? Hark ! don't you hear something go scratch, 

 scratch, with momentary pauses between ? Is it in the 

 tops of the trees, or down on the snow-covered ground ? 

 You listen hard and satisfy yourself it is borne to 

 your ear along the surface of the tell-tale snow. It is 

 the rabbits over yonder busy clearing the snow from 

 the mouth of their burrows, and trying to scrape off 

 enough of the mantle of white near bye, to let them get 

 a nibble at the green herbage below. 



And as you listen intently, a soft sound of tap-tap- 

 tapping comes to you from the other side, where 

 beyond the firs there is a circle in which there are 

 some beeches, birches, and " immemorial elms." That 

 is the green woodpecker, who, despite the frost and 

 snow, pursues his calling without pause ; but just now 

 you might wait long enough to hear his strange laugh, 

 which has led him to get the name of "yaffle" in some 

 parts, for that cry or sound, pleu, pleu, pleu, he only 

 emits before rain, which has led him also to get in 

 some places the name of the " rainbird " or " rain- 

 fowl." His green body and red head present a fine 

 contrast to the bark of the trees on which he climbs 

 and taps ; but he is a shy and cautious fellow, and has 

 a clever knack of always retreating to the other side 

 of the tree on the slightest hint of his being observed. 

 It is very funny to see him working the trees — a 

 business he does quite systematically. He proceeds 

 up each tree from the foot, taking slant lines across 

 and across it again, till he has reached a considerable 

 height. When he has done with that one, he flies 



