THE DOWNY WOODPECKER 



The bird that seems to consider he has the best 

 right to my hospitality is the downy woodpecker, 

 my favorite neighbor among the winter birds. 

 His retreat is but a few paces from my own, in 

 the decayed limb of an apple-tree, which he ex- 

 cavated several autumns ago. I say "he" be- 

 cause the red plume on the top of his head pro- 

 claims the sex. It seems not to be generally known 

 to our writers upon ornithology that certain of our 

 woodpeckers — probably all the winter residents 

 — each fall excavate a limb or the trunk of a 

 tree in which to pass the winter, and that the cav- 

 ity is abandoned in the spring, probably for a 

 new one in which nidification takes place. 



The particular woodpecker to which I refer 

 drilled his first hole in my apple-tree one fall 

 four or five years ago. This he occupied till the 

 following spring, when he abandoned it. The 

 next fall he began a hole in an adjoining limb, 

 later than before, and when it was about half com- 

 pleted a female took possession of his old quar- 

 ters. I am sorry to say that this seemed to enrage 

 the male very much, and he persecuted the poor 

 bird whenever she appeared upon the scene. He 



