am afraid of such a
fellow as that, do you?" To speak in Thoreau's manner, I rejoiced in the
incident as a fresh illustration of the ascendency of spirit over
matter.

One is always glad to find a familiar bird playing a new _role_, and
especially in such a spot as the Common, where, at the best, one can
hope to see so very little. It may be assumed, therefore, that I felt
peculiarly grateful to a white-bellied nuthatch, when I discovered him
bopping about on the ground--on Monument Hill; a piece of humility such
as I had never before detected any nuthatch in the practice of. Indeed,
this fellow looked so unlike himself, moving briskly through the grass
with long, awkward leaps, that at first sight I failed to recognize him.
He was occupied with turning over the dry leaves, one after
another,--hunting for cocoons, or things of that sort, I suppose. Twice
he found what he was in search of; but instead of handling the leaf on
the ground, he flew with it to the trunk of an elm, wedged it into a
crevice of the bark, and proceeded to hammer it sharply with his beak.
Great is the power of habit! Strange--is it not?--that any bird should
find it easiest to do such work while clinging to a perpendicular
surface! Yes; but how does it look to a dog, I wonder, that men can walk
better on their hind legs than on all fours? Everything is a miracle
from somebody's point of view. The sparrows were inclined to make game
of my obliging little performer; but he would have none of their
insolence, and repelled every approach in dashing style. In exactly
three weeks from this time, and on the same hillside, I came upon
another nuthatch similarly employed; but before this one had turned up a
leaf to his mind, the sparrows became literally too many for him, and he
took flight,--to my no small disappointment.

It would be unfair not to name others of my city guests, even though I
have nothing in particular to record concerning them. The Wilson thrush
and the red-bellied nuthatch I have seen once or twice each. The chewink
is more constant in his visits, as is also the golden-winged woodpecker.
Our familiar little downy woodpecker, on the other hand, has thus far
kept out of my catalogue. No other bird's absence has surprised me so
much; and it is the more remarkable because the comparatively rare
yellow-bellied species is to be met with nearly every season.
Cedar-birds show themselves irregularly. One March morning, when the
ground was cov