be seen.

"My home nest is that in the trunk of the old oak by the gate."

"It is very queer," said Phyllis. "Perhaps some other bird laid an egg
in the woodpeckers' nest by mistake."

The small bird fluttered quite helplessly with laughter.

"Oh, no, Phyllis, I see I have to tell you all about it. I am a
woodpecker, surely. But I am quite young yet. It is not a week since
I had my first lesson in flying."

"You fly very well for a young bird," said Phyllis.

"Well, my mother is very wise," said the bird.

"She does not think it well for her babies to get out of the nest until
they have grown quite large. She says that if we wait until our wings
are strong we will not be so apt to fall into danger.

"So I remained inside the nest until I was quite a large, strong bird.
Then my parents called me out and taught me to fly.

"Only yesterday I asked my mother why I did not wear a dress and cap
like her own.

"She said, 'Wait a little longer, my child. When you are quite grown
your cap will be as red as my own. You will look so much like your
father and me that those children down there will be unable to tell us
apart.'

"It is little wonder that you did not know me for a woodpecker in this
simple gray dress. All woodpecker children, however, dress in this
quiet fashion at first. I shall be happy when I get my gorgeous red
cap."

"Well," said Phyllis, "I am very glad you came to see me. I knew there
was a nest in the old oak-tree. I watched your father and mother one
whole morning a few weeks ago. I think they chose the oak because of
those old dead branches.

"I saw your mother brace herself against the tree with her stiff tail.
Then how her wedge-shaped bill rapped and rapped against the wood. For
fully twenty minutes she rapped away at the rotten wood. Then she grew
tired and your father took her place at the tree-trunk.

"Soon they pecked a hole deep enough to hide them from sight, but their
constant rap, rap, rap could still be heard.

"I wondered how deep they made the hole, but it was too high for me to
climb to find out."

"Having just come from the nest I can tell you all about it," replied
the young woodpecker. "My parents dug down into the soft trunk to a
depth of perhaps eighteen inches. At the bottom they hollowed out a
large roomy place for the nest. They did not line it with feathers or
grasses. Instead of a bed of moss was a little sawdust and the smooth
white sides of th