learly for our benefit. We, of course,
understood her tactics. She wished to draw us away from the neighborhood
of her infant, and as it was impossible to penetrate the thicket, and we
did not enjoy torturing an anxious mother, we decided to yield to her
wishes, and see what she would do.

She cried every moment, "tut, tut, tut," in a low tone, and ten or
twelve times repeated. At the same time she lifted her long tail, and
slowly let it fall, with a beautiful and graceful motion. She crouched
on the branch, and put her head down to it, then suddenly rose and threw
up her head and tail, making herself as conspicuous and as remarkable as
she could. We moved a little toward her. That encouraged her to go on;
and easily, in a sort of careless, inconsequent way, she hopped to the
next branch farther. So we let ourselves be drawn away, she keeping up
all the time the low call, while the infant, which we are sure was
there, had become utterly silent.

She was a beautiful creature, a picture of grace; and when she had
beguiled us some distance away from where we heard the baby-cry, she
suddenly slipped behind a branch and was gone; and we felt repaid for
missing the young one by the beautiful exhibition she had made of
herself. We never saw her again.

XXI.

TWO LITTLE DRUMMERS.

Last summer I made the acquaintance of an outlaw; an unfortunate
fellow-creature under the ban of condemnation, burdened with an
opprobrious name, and by general consent given over to the tender
mercies of any vagabond who chooses to torture him or take his life. One
would naturally sympathize with the "under dog," but when, instead of
one of his peers as opponent, a poor little fellow, eight inches long,
has arrayed against him the whole human race, with all its devices for
catching and killing, his chances for life and the pursuit of happiness
are so small that any lover of justice must be roused to his defense, if
defense be possible.

The individual of whom I speak is, properly, the yellow-bellied
woodpecker, though he is more commonly known as the sapsucker, in some
places the squealing sapsucker; and I hailed with joy his presence in a
certain protected bit of woods, a little paradise for birds and bird
lovers, where, if anywhere, he could be studied. There is some propriety
in applying to him the strange epithet "squealing," I must allow, for
the bird has a peculiar voice, nasal enough for the conventional Brother
Jonathan; but