THE FLICKER 



Another April comer, who arrives shortly after 

 Robin Redbreast, with whom he associates both 

 at this season and in the autumn, is the golden- 

 winged woodpecker, alias "high-hole," alias 

 "flicker," alias "yarup," alias "yellow-ham- 

 mer." He is an old favorite of my boyhood, and 

 his note to me means very much. He announces 

 his arrival by a long, loud call, repeated from the 

 dry branch of some tree, or a stake in the fence, 

 — a thoroughly melodious April sound. I think 

 how Solomon finished that beautiful description 

 of spring, "and the voice of the turtle is heard 

 in our land," and see that a description of spring 

 in this farming country, to be equally characteris- 

 tic, should culminate in like manner, — " and the 

 call of the high-hole comes up from the wood." 

 It is a loud, strong, sonorous call, and does not 

 seem to imply an answer, but rather to subserve 

 some purpose of love or music. It is " Yarup's " 

 proclamation of peace and good-will to all. 



I recall an ancient maple standing sentry to a 

 large sugar-bush, that, year after year, afforded 

 protection to a brood of yellow-hammers in its 

 decayed heart. A week or two before the nest- 



