258 
HARPER’S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
most part by hopping about tranks and 
limbs, supporting themselves with their stiff 
tail feathers, and picking small insects from 
the bark, or extracting grabs from beneath 
it by boring, or rather chiseling, small holes, 
which are not, I believe, injurious to orchard 
trees or others. 
The golden-winged woodpeckers have a 
pointed and rather long bill, partly adapted 
to their habit of feeding on ants from the 
ground, but yet a very strong one. In spring 
they generally choose a sound, hard-wood 
tree in which to make their nest, and go to 
work on the trunk at some height from the 
ground. They dig inward a few inches, and 
then downward, sometimes more than two 
feet, but commonly much less than that. 
The passage made varies considerably in 
shape, but is always enlarged toward the 
end, as seen in one of our illustrations, 
drawn from the longitudinal section of a 
woodpecker’s nest. So hard is the work 
that the birds can finish it only by perse- 
vering for two or three weeks ; and yet very 
often, alarmed by being watched or found 
out, or dissatisfied with their first choice of 
a position, they abandon a begun or half- 
finished excavation to make another, some- 
times in a different part of the same tree. 
They never advance, so far as I have ob- 
served, more than two inches in one day, 
and they rarely accomplish so much as that. 
They work chiefly in the morning, especially 
in the earlier part, and do not work at all 
steadily throughout the day. While mak- 
ing the entrance they cling to the trunk, 
and deliver sharp blows after drawing back 
the head ; a chip is then broken off and 
dropped to the ground, where, together with 
its fellows, it betrays to the observant pass- 
er-by the nest above. As the hole is deep- 
ened, the birds can not be seen at work, but 
now and then they come out to drop the 
chips. It is astonishing how quickly they 
hear one’s approach, and the ease with which 
they turn round to fly out or to show their 
heads at the entrance. Watch a woodpeck- 
er go in ; throw a stone against the tree, 
and instantly the bird is out again. When 
the excavation is finished, the eggs are laid 
on the chips at the bottom, no lining ever 
being used. These eggs, like those of all 
woodpeckers, are smooth-shelled and pure 
white. On examining the nest, one is struck 
with its symmetry and finish. The entrance, 
about three inches wide, is sometimes circu- 
lar, but often is an arch, as represented in 
the engraving. 
The nest of the downy woodpecker (which 
has a bill blunted at the end, or “trun- 
cated”) is similar, but much smaller. The 
entrance, which is circular, as shown in the 
engraving, is about two inches in diameter, 
sometimes so narrow as to make one doubt- 
ful as to the possibility of its owner pass- 
ing through. The nest is usually made in 
a partially decayed tree, and sometimes in 
an old post. It may most often be found in 
a birch, poplar, or button-wood tree, and not 
unfrequently in a branch instead of in the 
trunk. The architects choose their build- 
ing site with care and instinctive skill. It is 
not to be supposed, however, that their loud 
rapping in early spring is made for the sake 
of testing the soundness of any wood : it is 
made by the male and female when calling 
to one another. 
As the woodpeckers sometimes content 
themselves with a natural cavity, so the little 
chickadees (with black crown and throat), 
which almost always do so, or which are glad 
to find a commodious but deserted wood- 
pecker’s home, sometimes spend much time 
and labor in making an excavation for 
themselves, with a neat entrance about an 
inch and a half in diameter, and itself rare- 
ly more than six inches deep. At the bot- 
tom of this they make an inner nest of any 
warm materials which they can find — moss, 
wool, feathers, hairs, etc. — and lay six or 
more small white eggs with brown speckles. 
The shell is so thin that the yolk shines 
through, giving to the eggs before bknving 
a delicate blush. The same is observable 
in the woodpeckers’ and many other eggs, 
which often lose much of their natural 
beauty when prepared for the cabinet. No 
birds are more tender-hearted parents than 
the chickadees. If you break up their nest 
or take their eggs, they follow you along 
the wood path, now silent, and now uttering 
such a sweet, plaintive whistle that you re- 
pent of the mischief done, and regret that it 
is too late to repair it. 
Many birds make use of natural cavities* 
for nurseries, but the smaller kinds always 
line them at the bottom, or, in other words, 
build their nests in the hollows. The blue- 
birds are among these latter, and among the 
very first birds to begin housekeeping in 
spring. Sometimes they use a bird-box, but 
more often an old apple-tree or fence post. 
They are careful in their choice, and may be 
seen in March or April wandering in pairs 
through orchards and along fences hunting 
for a home. On finding one, they spend a few 
days in making it warm and dry ; the female 
then lays four or five light blue eggs. In 
the same class are the great crested fly-catch- 
ers, which are not very common, but are well 
known on account of their peculiar nest. 
Their eggs are very handsome, being buff or 
creamy, streaked and “ scratched” with pur- 
plish and a winy brown. The nests are 
nearly always composed partly of a cast-off 
snake-skin. 
Some of our wrens also build in holes, such 
as the great Carolina wrens (common to the 
southward of New England, but extremely 
* Such nests should he ranked as a fifth class. See 
the beginning of this article. 
