pitched in her remaining straws with the greatest precipitation, and,
without going in to arrange them, as was her wont, flew away in evident
relief.

In the cavity of an apple-tree but a few yards off, and much nearer the
house than they usually build, a pair of high-holes, or golden-shafted
woodpeckers, took up their abode. A knothole which led to the decayed
interior was enlarged, the live wood being cut away as clean as a
squirrel would have done it. The inside preparations I could not
witness, but day after day, as I passed near, I heard the bird
hammering away, evidently beating down obstructions and shaping and
enlarging the cavity. The chips were not brought out, but were used
rather to floor the interior. The woodpeckers are not nest-builders,
but rather nest-carvers.

The time seemed very short before the voices of the young were heard in
the heart of the old tree,--at first feebly, but waxing stronger day by
day until they could be heard many rods distant. When I put my hand
upon the trunk of the tree, they would set up an eager, expectant
chattering; but if I climbed up it toward the opening, they soon
detected the unusual sound and would hush quickly, only now and then
uttering a warning note. Long before they were fully fledged they
clambered up to the orifice to receive their food. As but one could
stand in the opening at a time, there was a good deal of elbowing and
struggling for this position. It was a very desirable one aside from
the advantages it had when food was served; it looked out upon the
great, shining world, into which the young birds seemed never tired of
gazing. The fresh air must have been a consideration also, for the
interior of a high-hole's dwelling is not sweet. When the parent birds
came with food, the young one in the opening did not get it all, but