f rabbits and squirrels is an innocent and delightful pastime, as
everybody knows; and the delectable excitement of pulling half-grown
fishes out of the pond to perish miserably on the bank, that, too, is a
recreation easily enough appreciated. But what shall be said of enjoying
birds without killing them, or of taking pleasure in plants, which, so
far as we know, cannot suffer even if we do kill them?

Of my many pleasant associations of birds with places, one of the
pleasantest is connected with the red-headed woodpecker. This showy bird
has for a good many years been very rare in Massachusetts; and
therefore, when, during the freshness of my ornithological researches, I
went to Washington for a month's visit, it was one of the things which I
had especially in mind, to make his acquaintance. But I looked for him
without success, till, at the end of a fortnight, I made a pilgrimage to
Mount Vernon. Here, after visiting the grave, and going over the house,
as every visitor does, I sauntered about the grounds, thinking of the
great man who used to do the same so many years before, but all the
while keeping my eyes open for the present feathered inhabitants of the
sacred spot. Soon a bird dashed by me, and struck against the trunk of
an adjacent tree, and glancing up quickly, I beheld my much-sought
red-headed woodpecker. How appropriately patriotic he looked, at the
home of Washington, wearing the national colors,--red, white, and blue!
After this he became abundant about the capital, so that I saw him
often, and took much pleasure in his frolicsome ways; and, some years
later, he suddenly appeared in force in the vicinity of Boston, where he
remained through the winter months. To my thought, none the less, he
will always suggest Mount Vernon. Indeed, although he is certainly
rather jovial, and even giddy, he is to me the bird of Washington much
more truly than is the solemn, stupid-seeming eagle, who commonly bears
that name.

To go away from home, even if the journey be no longer than from
Massachusetts to the District of Columbia, is sure to prove an event of
no small interest to a young naturalist; and this visit of mine to the
national capital was no exception. On the afternoon of my arrival,
walking up Seventh Street, I heard a series of loud, clear, monotonous
whistles, which I had then no leisure to investigate, but the author of
which I promised myself the satisfaction of meeting at another time. In
fact, I thi