has too much sense
in that little head of his to do such a silly thing as that. When he
cuts a hole for a nest he doesn't make any more noise than is absolutely
necessary. You don't see any chips flying, do you?"

"No-o," replied Peter slowly. "Now you speak of it, I don't. Is--is he
hunting for worms in the wood?"

Jenny laughed right out. "Hardly, Peter, hardly," said she. "He's just
drumming, that's all. That hollow limb makes the best kind of a drum
and Downy is making the most of it. Just listen to that! There isn't a
better drummer anywhere."

But Peter wasn't satisfied. Finally he ventured another question.
"What's he doing it for?"

"Good land, Peter!" cried Jenny. "What do you run and jump for in the
spring? What is Mr. Wren singing for over there? Downy is drumming for
precisely the same reason--happiness. He can't run and jump and he can't
sing, but he can drum. By the way, do you know that Downy is one of the
most useful birds in the Old Orchard?"

Just then Downy flew away, but hardly had he disappeared when another
drummer took his place. At first Peter thought Downy had returned until
he noticed that the newcomer was just a bit bigger than Downy. Jenny
Wren's sharp eyes spied him at once.

"Hello!" she exclaimed. "There's Hairy. Did you ever see two cousins
look more alike? If it were not that Hairy is bigger than Downy it
would be hard work to tell them apart. Do you see any other difference,
Peter?"

Peter stared and blinked and stared again, then slowly shook his head.
"No," he confessed, "I don't."

"That shows you haven't learned to use your eyes, Peter," said Jenny
rather sharply. "Look at the outside feathers of his tail; they are all
white. Downy's outside tail feathers have little bars of black. Hairy is
just as good a carpenter as is Downy, but for that matter I don't know
of a member of the Woodpecker family who isn't a good carpenter. Where
did you say Yellow Wing the Flicker is making his home this year?"

"Over in the Big Hickory-tree by the Smiling Pool," replied Peter. "I
don't understand yet why Yellow Wing spends so much time on the ground."

"Ants," replied Jenny Wren. "Just ants. He's as fond of ants as is Old
Mr. Toad, and that is saying a great deal. If Yellow Wing keeps on he'll
become a ground bird instead of a tree bird. He gets more than half his
living on the ground now. Speaking of drumming, did you ever hear Yellow
Wing drum on a tin roof?"

Peter shook his head