78 FINDING FERNS TO TRANSPLANT 
pecker going up the side of a tree. Every second 
or two he stuck his long bill into its bark to get 
some insect ; and he must have had a feast if, every 
time he pecked, he secured prey. He hopped along 
at a lively pace, appearing not to notice that we 
were watching him. What he did at other times 
I had no idea, but, unlike the wrens and the robins, 
he was not carrying his finds home to a little mate 
on the nest. Everything he found, he ate him- 
self. 
The spring air and the long walk had tired me 
by the time we reached the Six Spruces. This was 
not so, however, with Joseph, who was as enthusias- 
tic as when we first started, and had now, he said, 
to plant the ferns. Mr. Percy advised him to put 
the maidenhairs on the slight slope of the coppice 
where it is shady, yet somewhat open, and where 
they might be seen from the triangle. The fiddle- 
heads they planted near the point of the moist 
corner, and the lady-ferns they placed in a group at 
the side. 
“All of these ferns do splendidly under cultiva- 
tion,” Mr. Percy said. “But they will now require 
a daily watering, especially if the earth should 
become dry.” 
We felt it very encouraging that something we 
had planted would now grow and unfold at the Six 
Spruces as soon as it would in the woods. 
After Mr. Percy had gone back to Nestly 
Heights, Joseph and I wondered how it was that 
