they always stopped on the rail before me and went through with their
little entertainment. Gradually they grew more confident, and were
less careful to conceal their movements than at first. Sometimes only
one came, and after a short performance disappeared. Perhaps they
thought me harmless, or that they had deceived me so well at first
that I did not even suspect them of nest-building. Anyway, I never
pretended I knew.

As the afternoon wore away, and the sun dropped into the pine tops,
the chickadees grew hungry, and left their work until the morrow. They
were calling among the young birch buds as I left them, busy and
sociable together, hunting their supper.




XI. A FELLOW OF EXPEDIENTS.


[Illustration]

Among the birds there is one whose personal appearance is rapidly
changing. He illustrates in his present life a process well known
historically to all naturalists, viz., the modification of form
resulting from changed environment. I refer to the golden-winged
woodpecker, perhaps the most beautifully marked bird of the North,
whose names are as varied as his habits and accomplishments.

Nature intended him to get his living, as do the other woodpeckers, by
boring into old trees and stumps for the insects that live on the