ly swells, and then give forth a quick, explosive
sound like an escaping jet of steam. One involuntarily closes his eyes
and jerks back his head. The girls, to their great amusement, provoked
the bird into this pretty outburst of her impatience two or three times.
But as the ruse failed of its effect, the bird did not keep it up, but
let the laughing faces gaze till they were satisfied.

I was much interested in seeing a brood of chickadees, reared on my
premises, venture upon their first flight. Their heads had been seen at
the door of their dwelling--a cavity in the limb of a pear-tree--at
intervals for two or three days. Evidently they liked the looks of the
great outside world; and one evening, just before sundown, one of them
came forth. His first flight was of several yards, to a locust, where he
alighted upon an inner branch, and after some chirping and calling
proceeded to arrange his plumage and compose himself for the night. I
watched him till it was nearly dark. He did not appear at all afraid
there alone in the tree, but put his head under his wing and settled
down for the night as if it were just what he had always been doing.
There was a heavy shower a few hours later, but in the morning he was
there upon his perch in good spirits.

I happened to be passing in the morning when another one came out. He
hopped out upon a limb, shook himself, and chirped and called loudly.
After some moments an idea seemed to strike him. His attitude changed,
his form straightened up, and a thrill of excitement seemed to run
through him. I knew what it all meant; something had whispered to the
bird, "Fly!" With a spring and a cry he was in the air, and made good
headway to a near hemlock. Others left in a similar manner during that
day and the next, till all were out.

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 excavated several autumns ago. I say "he" because
the red plume on the top of his head proclaims 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
cavity is abandoned in the spring, probably for a new one in which
nid