I know a bird that is called the Red-eyed Vireo, because his eyes are red. Well, my eyes are red, too. Then why not call me the Red-eyed Woodpecker? Still the Woodpeckers are such a common family I don't much care about that either. In the last February number of BIRDS that saucy red-headed cousin of mine had his picture and a letter. Before very long the Red-cockaded Woodpecker will have his picture taken too, I suppose. Dear, dear! If all the Woodpeckers are going to write to you, you will have a merry time. Why, I can count twenty-four different species of that family and I have only four fingers, or toes, to count on, and you little folks have five. There may be more of them, Woodpeckers I mean, for all I know. Speaking about toes! I have two in front and two behind. There are some Woodpeckers that have only three, two in front and one behind. It's a fact, I assure you. I thought I would tell you about it before one of the three toed fellows got a chance to write to you about it himself. I am not so shy and wary a bird as some people think I am. When I want an insect, or worm, I don't care how many eyes are watching me, but up the tree I climb in my zigzag fashion, crying _chaw-chaw_, or _chow-chow_ in a noisy sort of way. Sometimes I say _chuck, chuck, chuck_! The first is Chinese, and the last English, you know. You might think it sounded like the bark of a small dog, though. I am fond of flies and catch them on the wing. I like ripe apples, too; and oh, what a _good_ time I have in winter raiding the farmer's corn crib! I have only to hammer at the logs with my sharp bill, and soon I can squeeze myself in between them and eat my fill. I understand the farmer doesn't like it very much. [Illustration: From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER. Copyright by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.] THE RED BELLIED WOODPECKER. "Zebra Bird" is the name by which this handsome Woodpecker will be recognized by many readers. Some regard it as the most beautiful of the smaller species of its tribe. As may be seen, the whole crown and nape are scarlet in the male. In the female they are only partly so, but sufficiently to make the identification easy. A bird generally of retired habits, seeking the deepest and most unfrequented forests to breed, it is nevertheless often found in numbers in the vicinity of villages where there are a few dead and partially decayed trees, in which they drill their holes, high up on a limb, or in the bole of the tree. When engaged in hammering for insects it frequently utters a short, singular note, which Wilson likens to the bark of a small dog. We could never liken it to anything, it is so characteristic, and must be heard to be appreciated. _Chaw, chaw_, repeated twice, and with vigor, somewhat resembles the hoarse utterance.