“Thinking that the bird was trying an impossible task, he continued about his work, but, after the hammering had continued for several days, his suspicions were aroused, the tank was examined, and two holes were found, drilled entirely through the stave, which, in spite of appearances, was unsound and would, probably, have given out without warning at some inconvenient season when repairs would have cut off the water supply. “Always deal kindly with the Flicker, and never make the mistake of confusing it with the Sapsucker; look for the _white spot on the rump_ and the _yellow wing-linings_, and you will know it, and, though the young of the year lack these marks at first, they have no yellow upon their breasts that can excuse you for making a mistake. MR. FLICKER WRITES A LETTER _People_: Tell me where you scare up Names for me like “Flicker,” “Yarup,” “High-hole,” “Yucker,” “Yellowhammer”— None of these are in my grammar— “Piquebois jaune” (Woodpick yellow), So the Creoles name a fellow. Others call me “Golden-wings,” “Clape,” and twenty other things That I never half remember, Any summer till September. Many names and frequent mention Show that I receive attention, And the honour that is due me; But if you would interview me Call me any name you please, I’m “at home” among the trees. Yet I never cease my labours To receive my nearest neighbours, And ’twill be your best enjoyment Just to view me at employment. I’m the friend of every sower, Useful to the orchard grower, Helping many a plant and tree From its enemies to free— They are always food for me. And I like dessert in reason, Just a bit of fruit in season, But my _delicacy_ is _ants_, Stump or hill inhabitants; Thrusting in my sticky tongue, So I take them, old and young. Surely, we have found the best Place wherein to make our nest Tunnel bored within a tree, Smooth and clean as it can be, Smallest at the door, Curving wider toward the floor, Every year we make a new one, Freshly bore another true one; Other birds, you understand, Use our old ones, second-hand— Occupying free of rent, They are very well content. To my wife I quite defer, I am most polite to her, Bowing while I say, “kee-cher.” Eggs we number five to nine, Pearly white with finish fine. On our nest we sit by turns, So each one a living earns; Though I think I sit the better, When she wishes to, I let ’er! Flicker. —Garrett Newkirk, in _Bird-Lore_.