ght, and pretty soon it appeared that he was at work in the
end of an upright stub, which he had evidently but just begun to hollow
out, as the tip of his tail still protruded over the edge. A
bird-lover's curiosity can always adapt itself to circumstances, and in
this case it was no hardship to postpone the settlement of my newly
raised inquiry, while I observed the pretty labors of my little
architect. These proved to be by no means inconsiderable, lasting nearly
or quite three weeks. The birds were still bringing away chips on the
30th, when their cavity was about eleven inches deep; but it is to be
said that, as far as I could find out, they never worked in the
afternoon or on rainy days.

Their demeanor toward each other all this time was beautiful to see; no
effusive display of affection, but every appearance of a perfect mutual
understanding and contentment. And their treatment of me was no less
appropriate and delightful,--a happy combination of freedom and
dignified reserve. I took it for an extremely neat compliment to
myself, as well as incontestable evidence of unusual powers of
discrimination on their part.

On my second visit the female sounded a call as I approached the tree,
and I looked to see her mate take some notice of it; but he kept
straight on with what he was doing. Not long after she spoke again,
however; and now it was amusing to see the fellow all at once stand
still on the top of the stub, looking up and around, as much as to say,
"What is it, my dear? I see nothing." Apparently it _was_ nothing, and
he went head first into the hole again. Pretty soon, while he was
inside, I stepped up against the trunk. His mate continued silent, and
after what seemed a long time he came out, flew to an adjacent twig,
dropped his load, and returned. This he did over and over (the end of
the stub was perhaps ten feet above my head), and once he let fall a
beakful of chips plump in my face. They were light, and I did not resent
the liberty.

Two mornings later I found him at his task again, toiling in good
earnest. In and out he went, taking care to bring away the shavings at
every trip, as before, and generally sounding a note or two (keeping the
tally, perhaps) before he dropped them. For the fifteen minutes or so
that I remained, his mate was perched in another branch of the same
tree, not once shifting her position, and doing nothing whatever except
to preen her feathers a little. She paid no attention