The Curious Book of Birds | Page 2

world smooth
and round like an apple. There were no hills nor mountains: nor were there any hollows
or valleys to hold the seas and rivers, fountains and pools, which the world of men would
need. It must, indeed, have been a stupid and ugly earth in those days, with no chance for
swimming or sailing, rowing or fishing. But as yet there was no one to think anything
about it, no one who would long to swim, sail, row, and fish. For this was long before
men were created.
The Lord looked about Him at the flocks of newly made birds, who were preening their
wings and wondering at their own bright feathers, and said to Himself,--
"I will make these pretty creatures useful, from the very beginning, so that in after time
men shall love them dearly. Come, my birds," He cried, "come hither to me, and with the
beaks which I have given you hollow me out here, and here, and here, basins for the
lakes and pools which I intend to fill with water for men and for you, their friends. Come,
little brothers, busy yourselves as you would wish to be happy hereafter."
Then there was a twittering and fluttering as the good birds set to work with a will,

singing happily over the work which their dear Lord had given them to do. They pecked
and they pecked with their sharp little bills; they scratched and they scratched with their
sharp little claws, till in the proper places they had hollowed out great basins and valleys
and long river beds, and little holes in the ground.
Then the Lord sent great rains upon the earth until the hollows which the birds had made
were filled with water, and so became rivers and lakes, little brooks and fountains, just as
we see them to-day. Now it was a beautiful, beautiful world, and the good birds sang
happily and rejoiced in the work which they had helped, and in the sparkling water which
was sweet to their taste.
All were happy except one. The Woodpecker had taken no part with the other busy birds.
She was a lazy, disobedient creature, and when she heard the Lord's commands she had
only said, "Tut tut!" and sat still on the branch where she had perched, preening her pretty
feathers and admiring her silver stockings. "You can toil if you want to," she said to the
other birds who wondered at her, "but I shall do no such dirty work. My clothes are too
fine."
Now when the world was quite finished and the beautiful water sparkled and glinted here
and there, cool and refreshing, the Lord called the birds to Him and thanked them for
their help, praising them for their industry and zeal. But to the Woodpecker He said,--
"As for you, O Woodpecker, I observe that your feathers are unruffled by work and that
there is no spot of soil upon your beak and claws. How did you manage to keep so neat?"
The Woodpecker looked sulky and stood upon one leg.
"It is a good thing to be neat," said the Lord, "but not if it comes from shirking a duty. It
is good to be dainty, but not from laziness. Have you not worked with your brothers as I
commanded you?"
"It was such very dirty work," piped the Woodpecker crossly; "I was afraid of spoiling
my pretty bright coat and my silver shining hose."
"Oh, vain and lazy bird!" said the Lord sadly. "Have you nothing to do but show off your
fine clothes and give yourself airs? You are no more beautiful than many of your brothers,
yet they all obeyed me willingly. Look at the snow-white Dove, and the gorgeous Bird of
Paradise, and the pretty Grosbeak. They have worked nobly, yet their plumage is not
injured. I fear that you must be punished for your disobedience, little Woodpecker.
Henceforth you shall wear stockings of sooty black instead of the shining silver ones of
which you are so proud. You who were too fine to dig in the earth shall ever be pecking
at dusty wood. And as you declined to help in building the water-basins of the world, so
you shall never sip from them when you are thirsty. Never shall you thrust beak into lake
or river, little rippling brook or cool, sweet fountain. Raindrops falling scantily from the
leaves shall be your drink, and your voice shall be heard only when other creatures are
hiding themselves from the approaching storm."
It was a sad punishment for the Woodpecker, but she certainly deserved it. Ever since

that time, whenever we hear a little tap-tapping in the tree city, we know that it is the
poor Woodpecker digging at the dusty wood,