weeks. Oh, yes, everybody knew it. So-and-so found it (I forget the name), and pretty soon it was all over Newtonville. A certain boy, whose wretched name also I have forgotten, had talked about shooting one of the birds; he could get a dollar and a half for it, he professed; but policeman Blank had said that a dollar and a half would n't do a boy much good if he got hold of him. He—my informant, a bright-faced, manly fellow of eleven or twelve—had brought his younger sister down to see the birds. He thought they were very handsome. "There!" said he, as one of them perched on a dead tree near by, "look!" and he knelt behind the little girl and pointed over her shoulder till she got the direction. After all, I thought, a boy is almost as pretty as a woodpecker. His father and mother were Canadians, and had told him that birds of this kind were common where they used to live. Then he lifted his sister upon the wheel, jumped up behind her, and away they trundled.
At another time an older boy came along, also on a bicycle, and stopped for a minute's
