"sapsucker" is, in the opinion of many who have studied
his ways, undeserved. Dr. Merriam, even while admitting that the birds
do taste the sap, says positively, "It is my firm belief that their
chief object in making these holes is to secure the insects which gather
about them."

My introduction to the subject of my study took place just after sundown
on a beautiful June evening. We were riding up from the railway station,
three miles away. The horses had climbed to the top of the last hill,
and trotted gayly through a belt of fragrant woods which reached like an
arm around from the forest behind, as if lovingly inclosing the
attractive scene,--a pleasant, old-fashioned homestead, with ample lawn
sloping down toward the valley we had left, and looking away over low
hills to the apparently unbroken forests of the Adirondacks.

At this moment there arose a loud, strange cry, of distress it seemed,
and I turned hastily to see a black and white bird, with bright red
crown and throat, bounding straight up the trunk of an elm-tree,
throwing back his head at every jerk with a comical suggestion of
Jack's "Hitchety! hatchety! up I go!" as he joyously mounted his
beanstalk, in the old nursery story. There was surely nothing amiss with
this little fellow, and, knowing almost nothing of the

"Greys, whites, and reds,
Of pranked woodpeckers that ne'er gossip out,
But always tap at doors and gad about,"

I eagerly demanded his name, and was delighted to hear in answer, "The
sapsucker." I was delighted because I hoped to see for myself whether
the bird merited the offensive name bestowed upon him, or was the victim
of hasty generalization from careless observation or insufficient data,
like others of his race. The close investigations of scientific men have
reversed many popular decisions. They have proved the crow to be the
farmer's friend, most of the hawks and owls to be laborers in his
interest, the kingbird to fare almost entirely upon destructive insects
rather than bees, and other birds to be more sinned against than
sinning.

The first thing noted was the sapsucker's peculiar food-seeking habit.
One bird made the lawn a daily haunt, and we, living chiefly on the
veranda, saw him before us at all hours, from dawn to dusk, and thus had
the best possible chance to catch him in mischief, if to mischief he
inclined. He generally made his appearance flying in bounding, wave-like
fashion, uttering his lo