File:Little folks in feathers and fur, and others in neither (1875) (14781805784).jpg

Identifier: littlefolksinfea00mill (find matches)
Title: Little folks in feathers and fur, and others in neither
Year: 1875 (1870s)
Authors: (Miller, Harriet (Mann) Mrs.), 1831- (from old catalog)
Subjects: Zoology
Publisher: Hartford, Conn., Dustin, Gilman & co. Cincinnati, Ohio, Queen city publishing co. (etc., etc.)
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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^such as men work with—of course, but a neatlittle bone pickaxe, just fitted to his size, and hard enough to boreholes into solid trees. Not that he injures solid trees, as peopleused to think he did; he much prefers a hollow tree, or onedead inside, for his nest. For his food—which he digs out with his pickaxe—he only goeswhere the worms alreadyare. To make the nest, theWoodpecker finds a hol-low tree, which he cantell by tapping on it.Then he cuts a passagefrom the outside, hollowsout the nest in the deadpart, makes a bed of wood-dust or moss, and thereshis house all ready for hisfamily. Another curiousthing about this littlqworker, besides his pick-axe, is his feet. His toes,instead of standing threeone way and one the other—like most birds—standin pairs, two each way.That is so that he canhold on very tightly. Hestands—as youve seenhim no doubt—on theside of the trunk, and hecan run around it as fast as any other bird can run forward. Soyou see, he needs a good grip.
Text Appearing After Image:
IN FEATHERS AXD FUR. Ill Youd hardly believe me if I said he had three legs, but hemight as well have another leg, as the useful little tail he has. Itis no straggling feathery affair, like a roosters, or a peacocks. Byno means ! It is short and stiff, and when he is at work he propshimself up with it, so that, as I said before, he might about as wellhave three legs. When he wants his dinner, he flies from tree to tree, tappingaway to find out if there are any little worms hidden away underthe bark, or in any crack or hole. If he finds a hole, he runs hislong slim tongue in, and as it is sticky at the end it brings outevery unfortunate worm it touches. If theyre too snugly hiddenunder the bark, the sharp little pickaxe chops off great pieces ofbark, till he lays open the hiding place, and thats the last everheard of the little worms. One summer I was visiting in a very pleasant country house,where the roof was low, and came down nearly to my window.Every morning, just at the time when

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