Phyllis sat in her own room, rocking her doll to sleep. The window was open and the curtain flapped idly in the breeze.
Presently into the room darted a bird. He was beautifully dressed. His soft gray uniform was spotted and barred with white.
He did not seem in the least alarmed when he found himself in the room with Phyllis. He perched on the window-ledge and did not even glance at the little girl.
In a moment he flew to the ledge above her door. With his strong little bill he began to rap, rap, rap at the wood.
"You act like a woodpecker, but you do not look like one," said Phyllis.
"That shows that you do not know all about woodpeckers," said the gray, downy bird. "I belong to the family of red-headed woodpeckers."
"You?" cried Phyllis, amazed. "But where is your red cap, and where is your white vest, and where is your black coat? You are trying to fool me, my friend."
"My father and mother have crimson heads and necks and throats. They have white breasts. They have black backs and wings and tails. When they fly, the broad white bands on the wings are quite plain to be seen.
"My home nest is that in the trunk of the old oak by the gate."
"It is very queer," said Phyllis. "Perhaps some other bird laid an egg in the woodpeckers' nest by mistake."