“The sun was bright and the air so still that the light snow which had fallen in the night yet clung to the branches and twigs of the tree, and Tufty examined it with interest, thinking it pretty but rather cold as he poked it about with his bill, and tucked first one little foot, and then the other, under him to keep it warm.  Presently he heard an odd little noise below him, and, looking down, saw on the trunk of the tree a bird about his own size, with wings and back of a steel-gray color, a white breast with a dash of dull red on it, and a long bill, with which he was making the noise Tufty had heard by tapping on the tree.

“‘Good-morning!’ said Tufty, who was of a friendly and social disposition, and was beginning to feel the need of company.

“‘Morning!’ said the woodpecker, very crisp and shorthand not so much as looking up to see who had spoken to him.

“If you had heard this talk you would have said Tufty called out:  ’Peep! peep!’ and the woodpecker—­but that’s because you don’t understand bird-language.

“‘What are you doing down there?’ said Tufty, continuing the conversation.

“‘Getting my breakfast,’ said the woodpecker.

“‘Why, I had mine a long time ago!’ said Tufty.

“He didn’t in the least understand how that knocking on the tree was to bring Mr. Longbill’s morning meal; but he was afraid to ask any more questions, the other had been so short with him.

“Just then he heard a hoarse voice overhead saying, ’Come along! come along!’ and, looking up, saw a monstrous black creature sailing above the tops of the trees.  It was only a crow on his way to the swamp, and he was trying to hurry up his mate, that always would lag behind in that corn-field where there wasn’t so much as a grain left; but Tufty, which by this time you must have discovered was a very ignorant bird, thought the black monster was calling him, and piped back feebly:  ’I can’t!  I can’t!’ and was all of a tremble till Mr. Crow was quite out of sight.

“He sat quiet, looking a little pensive, for the fact was, he was beginning to feel lonely, when there flew past him a flock of brown birds chirping and chattering away at a brisk rate.  ‘Now for it!’ thought Tufty, ‘here’s plenty of good company;’ and he spread his wings and flew after them as fast as he could.  But he could not keep up with them, but, panting and weary, alighted on the roof of a house to rest.  And here he saw such a pretty sight; for on a sunny roof just below him were two snow-white pigeons.  One was walking about in a very consequential way, his tail-feathers spread in the shape of a fan, and turning his graceful neck from side to side in quite a bewitching fashion.  Just as Tufty alighted, the pretty dove began to call:  ’Come, dear, come!  Do, dear, do!’ in such a sweet, soft, plaintive voice, as if his heart would certainly break if his dear didn’t come, that Tufty, who in his silly little pate never once doubted that it was