GOING TO BED AND GETTING UP.
As we told you before, birds do not live in houses or sleep in
bedrooms; though in some parts of the country they build their
cradles in little bird-houses and boxes or anything of the sort which
you will give them. But here we have never succeeded in making any of
them occupy a place which we have prepared for them, though we have
made the prettiest little houses, and nailed boxes in cosey places.
The western race of the house wren nests with us; so also does the
bluebird. But these birds have not become civilized and prefer to
stay in the mountains and far-off places.
[Illustration: Western Bluebird.]
Birds never call to one another to "Be sure to leave the window up
for fresh air," and they do not try to get more than their share of
the blankets, as some children do. Each bird carries his bedding
about on his back, like a tramp, and he takes the first warm,
sheltered nook he can find for his bed. Some birds appear to go to
the same place to sleep every night. We suppose they feel more at
home in one spot, if they have not been molested there. When we
find a particular spot where we know the birds are in the habit of
sleeping or roosting, we are careful not to disturb the bush or tree.
Some birds sleep with their heads all covered up with the
bed-clothes, as if they were afraid, like foolish children. Perhaps
they like a warm night-cap, though we do not see how they need one
with such a thick head of hair as they have. We call it "tucking
their heads under their wings."
It is a queer fashion to stand or squat on one foot all night,
instead of lying down like other people. We suppose they use one
foot at a time, so that the other may be rested. You have noticed
that anybody who must stand for a long while usually favors one limb
or foot, holding it up a little at the knee joint, and after a time
changing to the other. Try it yourself and see.
One very odd position in which some birds sleep is upright on the
bark of a tree trunk, clinging to the wood with their toes, and
propping themselves up with their strong, pointed tail-tips, as the
flickers and some of their friends do.
Going-to-bed-time and getting-up-time are happy hours with the birds.
About sundown you will hear them saying, "Just one more twitter,"
"One more worm, if you please," or, "One more flight to the highest
tree."
While you are watching them in the soft twilight, there is a sudden
hush and not a bird is in sight. If you have not been paying close
attention, with your eyes wide open, it will be impossible for you
to tell what has become of the birds, they go to bed so quickly
and silently. Not a sound will break the stillness, unless a merry
mocking-bird wakes you out of your sleep.
These mocking-birds sing to us all night long at some parts of the
year. You know these birds came by their name because they deserve
it. They mock or mimic every bird they hear, including the hens and
turkeys. We have wondered why they do not talk as well, but we have
never known them to.
One mocker in our yard gives us the postman's whistle every afternoon
an hour before it is due. Strangers rush to their gates, thinking
their mail has come, while the mocker laughs at them from the tip-top
branch of a eucalyptus tree, seventy or eighty feet above them.
If you have just come to California, you are likely to be waked up in
the middle of the night by the sound of your pet chickens peeping, or
the turkeys crying as if in distress, and you imagine all the fowls
in the coops are being carried off.
Perhaps you will snatch a broom or an apron and run out quickly, sure
of finding the marauder. From the top of his tree, safe out of your
reach, that little rascal of a mocker will "peep" again, and then
you will understand that it is only one of his jokes. Often they
sing beautiful songs by the hour, and we lie awake to hear, laughing
at the racket, or holding our breath to catch the last note of some
wonderful melody.
Besides the mocking-bird you may hear the owl, though you cannot be
quite sure that it is not the mocker again. In the dusk, when it is
just light enough to see a little, you may catch a glimpse of the
"Poor Will," darting about for his supper among the belated gnats and
flies.
When this bird came to California he left off saying "Whip Poor
Will,"[21] and so has but two notes. "Poor Will" is not whipped in
this beautiful land.
[21] _Phaenoptilus nuttalli californicus._
One will have to get up very early to see the fun among the birds in
the morning. A chirp in the twilight, the breakfast bell ringing from
the throat of the first bird up, and then how astir are the trees and
the bushes, and the whole yard or field! It is impossible for you to
tell where the little songsters came from so suddenly, just as it was
impossible for you to tell where they went to sleep the night before.
If there is a tub of water by the pump, the rim of it will soon be
covered by the birds; or, better still, if there is a leaky hydrant,
or a spring in the berry patch, or a puddle in the orchard, there you
will see what is sure to make you laugh.
The swishing and the diving and the twittering and the dressing of
the birds, and the flying particles of water like a shower bath, are
enough to make you glad that there are birds alive.
[Illustration: Whip-poor-will]
Let lazy people lie in bed on a bright morning. They will never know
what fun they miss, even though they may read about it. It is better
to see a fine thing for yourself than to depend upon what other
people have to say about it.
By the time ordinary people are up, the birds will have settled down
to the business of the day. Their dresses and coats are brushed, and
their hats and bonnets are on "straight."
The drip, drip, of the hydrant, or the babble of the brook do not
tell what they saw an hour ago. The old sun, looking down steadily in
your face, never hints at sights that made him smile so out of the
corner of his eye when he first got up at call of the birds.
It is a very odd thing that the birds have to wake the sun every
morning in California. Look about you early and see how it is where
you live.
"Get up, old Sun! get up, old Sun!" they all scream at once, and
they keep right on making as much noise as they can, until the lazy
old fellow is fairly out of bed. Tell your friends, if they do not
believe this, that they and old Sol himself had better take to
getting up earlier in the morning.
That is a queer old proverb, "Early birds get the worms." You have
all heard it, and it tells the truth.
Did you ever see the ground all covered with tiny little mounds of
fresh earth in the morning when it is damp? Angle-worms do not like
the sunshine; they will die if exposed to it. So they come up to
the surface of the ground in the night, while we and the sun are
asleep, just to get a bit of fresh air and to look around the world.
If they do not hurry back to their home in the ground, they will get
surprised by the "early birds," who help themselves to all the worms
they want.
That is a good proverb for the birds and the worms, but it has
another meaning for us all. "Early birds get the worms" means "If you
want to see pretty things, and hear fine music, and have a good time,
you must get up early in the morning." So if you would see all the
bird-fun in your yard, you must be up and out as soon as there is the
least bit of light, or you will be too late.
[Illustration]