Produced by Eve Sobol
THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN
By Thornton W. Burgess
TO THE CHILDREN AND THE BIRDS
OF AMERICA THAT THE BONDS OF LOVE AND
FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THEM MAY BE
STRENGTHENED
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
PREFACE
This book was written to supply a definite need. Its preparation was
undertaken at the urgent request of booksellers and others who have
felt the lack of a satisfactory medium of introduction to bird life for
little children. As such, and in no sense whatever as a competitor
with the many excellent books on this subject, but rather to supplement
these, this volume has been written.
Its primary purpose is to interest the little child in, and to make
him acquainted with, those feathered friends he is most likely to see.
Because there is no method of approach to the child mind equal to the
story, this method of conveying information has been adopted. So far
as I am aware the book is unique in this respect. In its preparation an
earnest effort has been made to present as far as possible the important
facts regarding the appearance, habits and characteristics of our
feathered neighbors. It is intended to be at once a story book and an
authoritative handbook. While it is intended for little children, it
is hoped that children of larger growth may find in it much of both
interest and helpfulness.
Mr. Louis Agassiz Fuertes, artist and naturalist, has marvelously
supplemented such value as may be in the text by his wonderful drawings
in full color. They were made especially for this volume and are so
accurate, so true to life, that study of them will enable any one to
identify the species shown. I am greatly indebted to Mr. Fuertes for his
cooperation in the endeavor to make this book of real assistance to the
beginner in the study of our native birds.
It is offered to the reader without apologies of any sort. It was
written as a labor of love--love for little children and love for the
birds. If as a result of it even a few children are led to a keener
interest in and better understanding of our feathered friends, its
purpose will have been accomplished.
THORNTON W. BURGESS
CONTENTS
I JENNY WREN ARRIVES
Introducing the House Wren.
II THE OLD ORCHARD BULLY
The English or House Sparrow.
III JENNY HAS A GOOD WORD FOR SOME SPARROWS
The Song, White-throated and Fox Sparrows.
IV CHIPPY, SWEETVOICE AND DOTTY
The Chipping, Vesper and Tree Sparrows.
V PETER LEARNS SOMETHING HE HADN'T GUESSED
The Bluebird and the Robin.
VI AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW HOME
The Phoebe and the Least Flycatcher.
VII THE WATCHMAN OF THE OLD ORCHARD
The Kingbird and the Great Crested Flycatcher.
VIII OLD CLOTHES AND OLD HOUSES
The Wood Peewee and Some Nesting Places.
IX LONGBILL AND TEETER
The Woodcock and the Spotted Sandpiper.
X REDWING AND YELLOW WING
The Red-winged Blackbird and the Golden-winged Flicker.
XI DRUMMERS AND CARPENTERS
The Downy, Hairy and Red-headed Woodpeckers.
XII SOME UNLIKE RELATIVES
The Cowbird and the Baltimore Oriole.
XIII MORE OF THE BLACKBIRD FAMILY
The Orchard Oriole and the Bobolink.
XIV BOB WHITE AND CAROL THE MEADOW LARK
The So-called Quail and the Meadow Lark.
XV A SWALLOW AND ONE WHO ISN'T
The Tree Swallow and the Chimney Swift.
XVI A ROBBER IN THE OLD ORCHARD
The Purple Martin and the Barn Swallow.
XVII MORE ROBBERS
The Crow and the Blue Jay.
XVIII SOME HOMES IN THE GREEN FOREST
The Crow, the Oven Bird and the Red-tailed Hawk.
XIX A MAKER OF THUNDER AND A FRIEND IN BLACK
The Ruffed Grouse and the Crow Blackbird.
XX A FISHERMAN ROBBED
The Osprey and the Bald-headed Eagle.
XXI A FISHING PARTY
The Great Blue Heron and the Kingfisher.
XXII SOME FEATHERED DIGGERS
The Bank Swallow, the Kingfisher and the Sparrow Hawk.
XXIII SOME BIG MOUTHS
The Nighthawk, the Whip-poor-will and Chuck-wills-widow.
XXIV THE WARBLERS ARRIVE
The Redstart and the Yellow Warbler.
XXV THREE COUSINS QUITE UNLIKE
The Black and White Warbler, the Maryland Yellow-Throat
and the Yellow-breasted Chat.
XXVI PETER GETS A LAME NECK
The Parula, Myrtle and Magnolia Warblers.
XXVII A NEW FRIEND AND AN OLD ONE
The Cardinal and the Catbird.
XXVIII PETER SEES ROSEBREAST AND FINDS REDCOAT
The Rose-breasted Grosbeak and the Scarlet Tanager.
XXIX THE CONSTANT SINGERS
The Red-eyed, Warbling and Yellow-throated Vireos.
XXX JENNY WREN'S COUSINS
The Brown Thrasher and the Mockingbird.
XXXI VOICE OF THE DUSK
The Wood, Hermit and Wilson's Thrushes.
XXXII PETER SAVES A FRIEND AND LEARNS SOMETHING
The Towhee and the Indigo Bunting.
XXXIII A ROYAL DRESSER AND A LATE NESTER
The Purple Linnet and the Goldfinch.
XXXIV MOURNER THE DOVE AND CUCKOO
The Mourning Dove and the Yellow-billed Cuckoo.
XXXV A BUTCHER AND A HUMMER
The Shrike and the Ruby-throated Hummingbird.
XXXVI A STRANGER AND A DANDY
The English Starling and the Cedar Waxwing.
XXXVII FAREWELLS AND WELCOMES
The Chickadee.
XXXVIII HONKER AND DIPPY ARRIVE
The Canada Goose and the Loon.
XXXIX PETER DISCOVERS TWO OLD FRIENDS
The White-breasted Nuthatch and the Brown Creeper.
XL SOME MERRY SEED-EATERS
The Tree Sparrow and the Junco.
XLI MORE FRIENDS COME WITH THE SNOW
The Snow Bunting and the Horned Lark.
XLII PETER LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT SPOOKY
The Screech Owl.
XLIII QUEER FEET AND A QUEERER BILL
The Ruffed Grouse and the Crossbills.
XLIV MORE FOLKS IN RED
The Pine Grosbeak and the Redpoll.
XLV PETER SEES TWO TERRIBLE FEATHERED HUNTERS
The Goshawk and the Great Horned Owl.
THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN
CHAPTER I. Jenny Wren Arrives.
Lipperty-lipperty-lip scampered Peter Rabbit behind the tumble-down
stone wall along one side of the Old Orchard. It was early in the
morning, very early in the morning. In fact, jolly, bright Mr. Sun had
hardly begun his daily climb up in the blue, blue sky. It was nothing
unusual for Peter to see jolly Mr. Sun get up in the morning. It would
be more unusual for Peter not to see him, for you know Peter is a great
hand to stay out all night and not go back to the dear Old Briar-patch,
where his home is, until the hour when most folks are just getting out
of bed.
Peter had been out all night this time, but he wasn't sleepy, not the
least teeny, weeny bit. You see, sweet Mistress Spring had arrived, and
there was so much happening on every side, and Peter was so afraid he
would miss something, that he wouldn't have slept at all if he could
have helped it. Peter had come over to the Old Orchard so early this
morning to see if there had been any new arrivals the day before.
“Birds are funny creatures,” said Peter, as he hopped over a low place
in the old stone wall and was fairly in the Old Orchard.
“Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!” cried a rather sharp scolding voice. “Tut,
tut, tut, tut, tut! You don't know what you are talking about, Peter
Rabbit. They are not funny creatures at all. They are the most sensible
folks in all the wide world.”
Peter cut a long hop short right in the middle, to sit up with shining
eyes. “Oh, Jenny Wren, I'm so glad to see you! When did you arrive?” he
cried.
“Mr. Wren and I have just arrived, and thank goodness we are here at
last,” replied Jenny Wren, fussing about, as only she can, in a branch
above Peter. “I never was more thankful in my life to see a place than I
am right this minute to see the Old Orchard once more. It seems ages and
ages since we left it.”
“Well, if you are so fond of it what did you leave it for?” demanded
Peter. “It is just as I said before--you birds are funny creatures. You
never stay put; at least a lot of you don't. Sammy Jay and Tommy Tit
the Chickadee and Drummer the Woodpecker and a few others have a little
sense; they don't go off on long, foolish journeys. But the rest of
you--”
“Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!” interrupted Jenny Wren. “You don't know what
you are talking about, and no one sounds so silly as one who tries to
talk about something he knows nothing about.”
Peter chuckled. “That tongue of yours is just as sharp as ever,” said
he. “But just the same it is good to hear it. We certainly would miss
it. I was beginning to be a little worried for fear something might have
happened to you so that you wouldn't be back here this summer. You know
me well enough, Jenny Wren, to know that you can't hurt me with your
tongue, sharp as it is, so you may as well save your breath to tell me a
few things I want to know. Now if you are as fond of the Old Orchard as
you pretend to be, why did you ever leave it?”
Jenny Wren's bright eyes snapped. “Why do you eat?” she asked tartly.
“Because I'm hungry,” replied Peter promptly.
“What would you eat if there were nothing to eat?” snapped Jenny.
“That's a silly question,” retorted Peter.
“No more silly than asking me why I leave the Old Orchard,” replied
Jenny. “Do give us birds credit for a little common sense, Peter. We
can't live without eating any more than you can, and in winter there is
no food at all here for most of us, so we go where there is food. Those
who are lucky enough to eat the kinds of food that can be found here in
winter stay here. They are lucky. That's what they are--lucky. Still--”
Jenny Wren paused.
“Still what?” prompted Peter.
“I wonder sometimes if you folks who are at home all the time know just
what a blessed place home is,” replied Jenny. “It is only six months
since we went south, but I said it seems ages, and it does. The best
part of going away is coming home. I don't care if that does sound
rather mixed; it is true just the same. It isn't home down there in the
sunny South, even if we do spend as much time there as we do here. THIS
is home, and there's no place like it! What's that, Mr. Wren? I haven't
seen all the Great World? Perhaps I haven't, but I've seen enough of it,
let me tell you that! Anyone who travels a thousand miles twice a year
as we do has a right to express an opinion, especially if they have used
their eyes as I have mine. There is no place like home, and you needn't
try to tease me by pretending that there is. My dear, I know you; you
are just as tickled to be back here as I am.”
“He sings as if he were,” said Peter, for all the time Mr. Wren was
singing with all his might.
Jenny Wren looked over at Mr. Wren fondly. “Isn't he a dear to sing to
me like that? And isn't it a perfectly beautiful spring song?” said she.
Then, without waiting for Peter to reply, her tongue rattled on. “I do
wish he would be careful. Sometimes I am afraid he will overdo. Just
look at him now! He is singing so hard that he is shaking all over. He
always is that way. There is one thing true about us Wrens, and this is
that when we do things we do them with all our might. When we work
we work with all our might. When Mr. Wren sings he sings with all his
might.”
“And, when you scold you scold with all your might,” interrupted Peter
mischievously.
Jenny Wren opened her mouth for a sharp reply, but laughed instead. “I
suppose I do scold a good deal,” said she, “but if I didn't goodness
knows who wouldn't impose on us. I can't bear to be imposed on.”
“Did you have a pleasant journey up from the sunny South?” asked Peter.
“Fairly pleasant,” replied Jenny. “We took it rather easily, Some birds
hurry right through without stopping, but I should think they would be
tired to death when they arrive. We rest whenever we are tired, and just
follow along behind Mistress Spring, keeping far enough behind so that
if she has to turn back we will not get caught by Jack Frost. It gives
us time to get our new suits on the way. You know everybody expects you
to have new things when you return home. How do you like my new suit,
Peter?” Jenny bobbed and twisted and turned to show it off. It was plain
to see that she was very proud of it.
“Very much,” replied Peter. “I am very fond of brown. Brown and gray are
my favorite colors.” You know Peter's own coat is brown and gray.
“That is one of the most sensible things I have heard you say,”
chattered Jenny Wren. “The more I see of bright colors the better I like
brown. It always is in good taste. It goes well with almost everything.
It is neat and it is useful. If there is need of getting out of sight in
a hurry you can do it if you wear brown. But if you wear bright colors
it isn't so easy. I never envy anybody who happens to have brighter
clothes than mine. I've seen dreadful things happen all because of
wearing bright colors.”
“What?” demanded Peter.
“I'd rather not talk about them,” declared Jenny in a very emphatic way.
“'Way down where we spent the winter some of the feathered folks who
live there all the year round wear the brightest and most beautiful
suits I've ever seen. They are simply gorgeous. But I've noticed that in
times of danger these are the folks dreadful things happen to. You see
they simply can't get out of sight. For my part I would far rather be
simply and neatly dressed and feel safe than to wear wonderful clothes
and never know a minute's peace. Why, there are some families I know of
which, because of their beautiful suits, have been so hunted by men that
hardly any are left. But gracious, Peter Rabbit, I can't sit here all
day talking to you! I must find out who else has arrived in the Old
Orchard and must look my old house over to see if it is fit to live in.”