seen
other kingbirds do. One day they came in the rain, feathers all in
locks, showing the dark color next the skin, and looking like beggars in
"rags and tags," but they were as cheerful and as clannish as ever.

To the locust group, too, came the red-headed woodpeckers; at first the
parents, who talked to each other in whispered "kr-r-r-r's," and carried
off many a sweet morsel to their family in the woods; later, one
youngster, who took possession of the fence with the calm assurance of
his race, and when I left the place had apparently established himself
there for the season.

Many others alighted on the fence; the junco, with his pretty brown
bantling and his charming little trilling song; the crow baby, with its
funny ways and queer cry of "ma-a-a;" the redstart, who

"Folds and unfolds his twinkling tail in sport;"

the flicker mamma, with her "merry pitter-patter" and her baby as big as
herself. Even the sapsucker from the lawn had somehow heard the news
that a feast was spread near the locusts, and came over to see.

Birds were not the only frequenters of the fence and the berry bushes.
There were squirrels, gray and red, and chipmunks, who sat up pertly on
a post, with two little paws laid upon their heart in theatrical
attitude, as who should say, "Be still, my heart," while they looked
the country over to see if any lurking member of the human family were
about. The red squirrels were the most amusing, for they were very
frolicsome, indulging in mad chases over and under the fence, through
the trees, around the trunks, so rapidly that they resembled a red
streak more than little beasts.

One squirrel adopted the fence as his regular highway, and the high post
of the farm gate as his watch-tower. He often sunned himself, lying on
his face, with his legs and his tail spread out as flat as if he had
been smashed. His presence scared the birds from the neighborhood, and I
undertook to discourage him. I went out one day when I saw him near the
fence. The squirrel made up his mind to pass over the gate and get into
the locust, but I posted myself quite near, and he did not like to pass
me. Giving up his plan is no part of a squirrel's intention, however,
and every moment he would scramble up a few feet one side of me, with
the design of running past me. As soon as his sharp black eyes showed
above the top board I cried "Shoo!" He understood my motion, and
doubtless would if I had said "Scat!" or "Get out!