"Must you go?" asked Phyllis. "Here is a strawberry for you."
"Thanks," said the bird, pecking away at the fruit. "I am just off to the corn-field. My father showed me this morning how to open the husks of the green corn to get at the rich, milky kernels inside."
"When you get your red cap, come back," cried Phyllis, and the young woodpecker's lively cry answered from the corn-field.
A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND[1]
Away, away in the Northland,
Where the hours of the day are few,
And the nights are so long in winter
They cannot sleep them through;
Where they harness the swift reindeer
To the sledges, when it snows;
And the children look like bears' cubs
In their funny, furry clothes;
They tell them a curious story—
I don't believe 'tis true;
And yet you may learn a lesson
If I tell the tale to you.
Once, when the good Saint Peter
Lived in the world below,
And walked about it, preaching,
Just as he did, you know,
He came to the door of a cottage,
In travelling round the earth,
Where a little woman was making cakes
And baking them on the hearth;