Tag Archives: Peter Rabbit

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 33 – Purple Finch + Goldfinch

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

CHAPTER 33 – A Royal Dresser and a Late Nester

Jenny and Mr. Wren were busy. If there were any busier little folks anywhere Peter Rabbit couldn’t imagine who they could be. You see, everyone of those seven eggs in the Wren nest had hatched, and seven mouths are a lot to feed, especially when every morsel of food must be hunted for and carried from a distance. There was little time for chatting now. Just as soon as it was light enough to see Jenny and Mr. Wren began feeding those always hungry babies, and they kept at it with hardly time for an occasional mouthful themselves, until the Dark Shadows came creeping out from the Purple Hills. Wren babies, like all other bird babies, grow very fast, and that means that each one of them must have a great deal of food every day. Each one of them often ate its own weight in food in a day and all their food had to be hunted for and when found carried back and put into the gaping little mouths. Hardly would Jenny Wren disappear in the little round doorway of her home with a caterpillar in her bill than she would hop out again, and Mr. Wren would take her place with a spider or a fly and then hurry away for something more.

Peter tried to keep count of the number of times they came and went and soon gave it up. He began to wonder where all the worms and bugs and spiders came from, and gradually he came to have a great deal of respect for eyes sharp enough to find them so quickly. So at last Peter gave up the idea of trying to find out from Jenny certain things he wanted to know, and hopped off to look for some one who was less busy. He had gone only a short distance when his attention was caught by a song so sweet and so full of little trills that he first stopped to listen, then went to look for the singer.

Tiny caterpillar camouflaged on the forest floor is dinner for a baby wren.

It didn’t take long to find him, for he was sitting on the very tip top of a fir tree in Farmer Brown’s yard. Peter didn’t dare go over there, for already it was broad daylight, and he had about made up his mind that he would have to content himself with just listening to that sweet singer when the latter flew over in the Old Orchard and alighted just over Peter’s head. “Hello, Peter!” he cried.

“Hello, Linnet!” cried Peter. “I was wondering who it could be who was singing like that. I ought to have known, you see though it has been so long since I’ve heard you sing that I couldn’t just remember your song. I’m so glad you came over here for I’m eager to talk to somebody.”

Linnet the Purple Finch, for this is who it was, laughed right out. “I see you’re still the same old Peter,” said he. “I suppose you’re just as full of curiosity as ever and just as full of questions. Well, here I am, so what shall we talk about?”

“You,” replied Peter. “Lately I’ve found out so many surprising things about my feathered friends that I want to know more. I’m trying to get it straight in my head who is related to who, and I’ve found out some things which have begun to make me feel that I know very little about my feathered neighbors. It’s getting so that I don’t dare to even guess who a person’s relatives are. And what family do you belong to Linnet?”

Linnet flew down a little nearer to Peter. “Look me over, Peter,” he said with twinkling eyes. “See if you can tell for yourself.”

Peter stared solemnly at Linnet. He saw a bird of Sparrow size most of whose body was a rose-red, brightest on the head, darkest on the back, and palest on the breast. Underneath he was whitish. His wings and tail were brownish, the outer parts of the feathers edged with rose-red. His bill was short and stout.

Before Peter could reply, Mrs. Finch appeared. There wasn’t so much as a touch of that beautiful rose-red about her. Her grayish-brown back was streaked with black, and her white breast and sides were spotted and streaked with brown. If Peter hadn’t seen her with Linnet he certainly would have taken her for a Sparrow. She looked so much like one that he ventured to say, “I guess you belong to the Sparrow family.”

Goldfinch by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“That’s pretty close, Peter.” declared Linnet. “We belong to the Finch branch of the family, which makes the Sparrows own cousins to us. Folks may get Mrs. Finch mixed with some of our Sparrow cousins, however they never can mistake me. There isn’t anybody else my size with a rose-red coat like mine. If you can’t remember my song, you can always tell me by the color of my coat. Hello! Here comes Cousin Chicoree. Did you ever see a happier fellow than he is? I’ll venture to say that he has been having such a good time that he hasn’t even yet thought of building a nest, and here half the people of the Old Orchard have grown families. I’ve a nest and eggs myself, however that fellow is just roaming about having a good time. Isn’t that so, Chicoree?”

“Isn’t what so?” asked Chicoree the Goldfinch, perching very near to where Linnet was sitting.

“Isn’t it true that you haven’t even begun thinking about a nest?” repeated Linnet. Chicoree flew down in the grass almost under Peter’s nose and began to pull apart a dandelion which had gone to seed. He snipped the seeds from the soft down to which they were attached and didn’t say a word till he was quite through. Then he flew up in the tree near Linnet, and while he dressed his feathers, answered Linnet’s question.

Curious Capkin watching a flower go to seed – just right for a goldfinch? maybe!

“It’s quite true,” he said. “For me there’s time enough to think about nest building and household cares later. Mrs. Goldfinch and I will begin to think about them about the first of July. Meanwhile we are making the most of this beautiful season to roam about and have a good time. For one thing we like thistledown to line our nest, and there isn’t any thistledown yet. Then, there is no sense in raising a family until there is plenty of the right kind of food, and you know we Goldfinches live  mostly on seeds. I’ll venture to say that we are the greatest seed eaters anywhere around. Of course when the babies are small they have to have soft food, and one can find plenty of worms and bugs any time during the summer. Just as soon as the children are big enough to look for their own food they need seeds, so there is no sense in trying to raise a family until there are plenty of seeds for them when needed. How do you like my summer suit, Peter?”

“It’s beautiful,” declared Peter. “I wouldn’t know you for the same bird I see so often in the late fall and sometimes in the winter. I don’t know of anybody who makes a more complete change. That black cap certainly is very smart and becoming.”

Chicoree cocked his head on one side, the better to show off that black cap. The rest of his head and his whole body were bright yellow. His wings were black with two white bars on each. His tail also was black, with some white on it. In size he was a little smaller than Linnet. If Peter had known anything about Canaries, which of course he didn’t, because Canaries are always kept in cages, he would have understood why Chicoree the Goldfinch is often called the Wild Canary.

Mrs. Goldfinch now joined her mate and it was plain to see that she admired him quite as much as did Peter. Her wings and tail were much like his but were more brownish than black. She wore no cap at all and her back and head were a grayish-brown with an olive tinge. Underneath she was lighter, with a tinge of yellow. As Peter recalled Chicoree’s winter suit, it was very much like that now worn by Mrs. Goldfinch, save that his wings and tail were as they now appeared.

Chicoree kept up a continual happy twittering, breaking out every few moments into song. It was clear that he was fairly bubbling over with joy.

“Are you a member of the same family as Linnet the Purple Finch?” asked Peter.

“Yes, we do belong to the same family,” answered Chicoree, “and now I must go over to the Old Pasture to see how the thistles are coming on.”

Away he flew calling, “Chic-o-ree, per-chic-o-ree, chic-o-ree!” and Mrs. Goldfinch followed. As they flew, they rose and fell in the air in very much the same way that Yellow Wing the Flicker does.

“I’d know them just by that, even if Chicoree didn’t keep calling his own name,” thought Peter out loud. “It’s funny how they often stay around all winter yet are among the last of all the birds to set up housekeeping. As I once said to Jenny Wren, birds certainly are funny creatures.”

“Tut, tut, tut! It’s no such thing, Peter Rabbit. It’s no such thing,” said Jenny Wren as she flew past Peter on her way to hunt for another worm for her hungry babies.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Purple Finch
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Goldfinch
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – Goldfinches at bird feeder – molting
  • Nature journal coloring pages at Cornell Common Feeder Birds FREE (page W70 Purple Finch).
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available for both Goldfinch (p. 53-57)  in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.
  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawing of a Goldfinch (p19).

  • Also a copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with a Purple Finch on page 12 and an American Goldfinch on page 16.

FYI -These coloring books are an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 32 – Eastern Towhee + Indigo Bunting

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

CHAPTER 32 – Peter Saves a Friend and Learns Something

Peter Rabbit sat in a thicket of young trees on the edge of the Green Forest. It was warm and Peter was taking it easy. He had nothing in particular to do, and since he could not think of a cooler place he had squatted there to doze a bit and dream a bit. As far as he knew, Peter was all alone. He hadn’t seen anybody when he entered that little thicket, and though he had listened he hadn’t heard a sound to indicate that he didn’t have that thicket to himself. It was very quiet there, and though when he first entered he hadn’t the least intention in the world of going to sleep, it wasn’t long before he was dozing.

Now Peter is a light sleeper, as all little people who never know when they may have to run for their lives must be. By and by he awoke with a start, and he was very wide awake indeed. Something had wakened him, though just what it was he couldn’t say. His long ears stood straight up as he listened with all his might for some little sound which might mean danger. His wobbly little nose wobbled very fast indeed as it tested the air for the scent of a possible enemy. Very alert was Peter as he waited.

For a few minutes he heard nothing and saw nothing. Then, near the outer edge of the thicket, he heard a great rustling of dry leaves. It must have been this that had wakened him. For just an instant Peter was startled. Then his long ears told him at once that that noise was made by some one scratching among the leaves, and he knew that no one who did not wear feathers could scratch like that.

“Now who can that be?” thought Peter, and crept forward very softly towards the place from which the sound came. Presently, as he peeped between the stems of the young trees, he saw the brown leaves which carpeted the ground flying this way and that, and in the midst of them was an exceedingly busy person, a little smaller than Welcome Robin, scratching away for dear life.

Thicket of trees on the edge of the Green Forest near to a green meadow and mossy area.

Every now and then he picked up something. His head, throat, back, and breast were black. Beneath he was white. His sides were reddish-brown. His tail was black and white, and the longer feathers of his wings were edged with white. It was Chewink the Towhee, sometimes called a Ground Robin.

Peter chuckled to himself. He kept perfectly still, for it was fun to watch someone who hadn’t the least idea that he was being watched. It was quite clear that Chewink was hungry and that under those dry leaves he was finding a good meal. His feet were made for scratching and he certainly knew how to use them. For some time Peter sat there watching. He had just about made up his mind that he would make his presence known and have a bit of a morning chat when, happening to look out beyond the edge of the little thicket, he saw something red. It was something moving very slowly and cautiously towards the place where Chewink was so busy and focused on his breakfast that he forgot about everything else around him. Peter knew that there was only one person with a coat of that color. It was Reddy Fox, and quite plainly Reddy was hoping to catch Chewink.

For a second or two Peter was quite undecided what to do. He couldn’t warn Chewink without making his own presence known to Reddy Fox. Of course he could sit perfectly still and let Chewink be caught, and that was such a dreadful thought that Peter didn’t consider it for more than a second or two. He suddenly thumped the ground with his feet. It was his danger signal which all his friends know. Then he turned and scampered lipperty-lipperty-lip to a thick bramble tangle not far behind him.

At the sound of that thump Chewink instantly flew up in a little tree. Then he saw Reddy Fox and began to scold. As for Reddy, he looked over towards the bramble tangle and snarled. “I’ll get you one of these days, Peter Rabbit,” he said. “I’ll get you one of these days and pay you up for cheating me out of a breakfast.” Without so much as a glance at Chewink, Reddy turned and trotted off, trying his best to look dignified and as if he had never entertained such a thought as trying to catch Chewink.

From his perch Chewink watched until he was sure that Reddy Fox had gone away for good. Then he called softly, “Towhee! Towhee! Chewink! Chewink! All is safe now, Peter Rabbit. Come out and talk with me and let me tell you how grateful to you I am for saving my life.”

Chewink flew down to the ground and Peter crept out of the bramble tangle. “Oh, it wasn’t anything,” declared Peter. “I saw Reddy and I knew you didn’t, so I gave the alarm. You would have done the same thing for me. Do you know, Chewink, I’ve wondered a great deal about you.”

“What have you wondered about me?” asked Chewink.

“I’ve wondered what family you belong to,” admitted Peter.

Towhee by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

Chewink chuckled. “I belong to a big family,” he said. “I belong to the biggest family among the birds. It is the Finch and Sparrow family. There are a lot of us and a good many of us don’t look much alike, still we belong to the same family. I suppose you know that Rosebreast the Grosbeak and Glory the Cardinal are members of my family.”

“I did not know it,” replied Peter. “It is easier to believe than it is to believe that you are related to the Sparrows.”

“Nevertheless I am,” remarked Chewink.

“What were you scratching for when I first saw you?” asked Peter.

“Oh, worms and bugs that hide under the leaves,” replied Chewink. “You have no idea how many of them hide under dead leaves.”

“Do you eat anything else?” asked Peter.

“I am very fond of berries and wild fruits in season,” replied Chewink, “as they make a nice variety in the bill of fare.”

“I’ve noticed that I seldom see you up in the tree tops,” mused Peter.

“I like the ground better,” said Chewink. “I spend more of my time on the ground than anywhere else.”

“I suppose that means that you nest on the ground,” ventured Peter.

Chewink nodded. “Of course,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got a nest in this very thicket. Mrs. Towhee is on it right now, and I suspect she’s worrying and anxious to know what happened over here when you warned me about Reddy Fox. I think I must go set her mind at rest.”

Peter was just about to ask if he might go along and see that nest when a new voice broke in.

Towhees like bugs and worms found in leaf litter.

“What are you fellows talking about?” it inquired, and there flitted just in front of Peter a little bird the size of a Sparrow. At first glance he seemed to be all blue, and such a lovely bright blue. Then as he paused for an instant Peter saw that his wings and tail were mostly black and that the lovely blue was brightest on his head and back. It was Indigo the Bunting.

“We were talking about our family,” replied Chewink. “I was telling Peter that we belong to the largest family among the birds.”

“You didn’t say anything about Indigo,” interrupted Peter. “Do you mean to say that he belongs to the same family?”

“I surely do,” replied Indigo. “I’m rather closely related to the Sparrow branch. Don’t I look like a Sparrow?”

Peter looked at Indigo closely. “In size and shape you do,” he confessed, “just the same I did not connect you with the Sparrows.”

“How about me?” asked another voice, and a little brown bird flew up beside Indigo, twitching her tail nervously. She looked very Sparrow-like indeed, so much so, that if Peter had not seen her with her handsome mate, for she was Mrs. Indigo Bunting, he certainly would have taken her for a Sparrow. Only on her wings and tail was there any of the blue which made Indigo’s coat so beautiful, and this was only a faint tinge.

“I’ll have to confess that so far as you are concerned it isn’t hard to think of you as related to the Sparrows,” declared Peter. “Don’t you sometimes wish you were dressed as Indigo in bright blue?”

Mrs. Indigo Bunting shook her head in a most decided way. “Never!” she declared. “I have worries enough raising a family as it is, if I had a coat like his I wouldn’t have a moment of peace. You have no idea how I worry about him sometimes. You ought to be thankful, Peter Rabbit, that you haven’t a coat like his. It attracts altogether too much attention.”

Peter tried to picture himself in a bright blue coat and laughed right out at the mere thought, and the others joined with him. Then Indigo flew up to the top of a tall tree not far away and began to sing. It was a lively song and Peter enjoyed it thoroughly. Mrs. Indigo Bunting took this opportunity to slip away unobserved, and when Peter looked around for Chewink, he too had disappeared. He had gone to tell Mrs. Chewink that he was quite safe and that she had nothing to worry about.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawing of a Eastern Towhee (p41).

  • Also a copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with a Towhee on page 39.

FYI -These coloring books are an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 31 – Wood Thrush + Veery

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 31 – Voices of the Dusk

Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun was just going to bed behind the Purple Hills and the Dark Shadows had begun to creep all through the Green Forest and out across the Green Meadows. It was the hour of the day Peter Rabbit loves best. He sat on the edge of the Green Forest watching for the first little star to twinkle high up in the sky. Peter felt at peace with all the Great World, for it was the hour of peace, the hour of rest for those who had been busy all through the shining day.

Most of Peter’s feathered friends had settled themselves for the coming night, the worries and cares of the day over and forgotten. All the Great World seemed hushed. In the distance Sweetvoice the Vesper Sparrow was pouring out his evening song, for it was the hour when he dearly loves to sing. Far back in the Green Forest Whip-poor-will was calling as if his very life depended on the number of times he could say, “Whip-poor-Will,” without taking a breath. From overhead came now and then the sharp cry of Boomer the Nighthawk, as he hunted his supper in the air.

Jolly Mr. Sun going to bed behind the Purple Hills.

For a time it seemed as if these were the only feathered friends still awake, and Peter couldn’t help thinking that those who went so early to bed missed the most beautiful hour of the whole day. Then, from a tree just back of him, there poured forth a song so clear, so sweet, so wonderfully suited to that peaceful hour, that Peter held his breath until it was finished. He knew that singer and loved him. It was Melody the Wood Thrush.

When the song ended Peter hopped over to the tree from which it had come. It was still light enough for him to see the sweet singer. He sat on a branch near the top, his head thrown back and his soft, full throat throbbing with the flute like notes he was pouring forth. He was a little smaller than Welcome Robin. His coat was a beautiful reddish-brown, not quite so bright as that of Brownie the Thrasher. Beneath he was white with large, black spots thickly dotting his breast and sides. He was singing as if he were trying to put into those beautiful notes all the joy of life. Listening to it Peter felt a wonderful feeling of peace and pure happiness. Not for the world would he have interrupted it.

The Dark Shadows crept far across the Green Meadows and it became so dusky in the Green Forest that Peter could barely make out the sweet singer above his head. Still Melody sang on and the hush of eventide grew deeper, as if all the Great World were holding its breath to listen. It was not until several little stars had begun to twinkle high up in the sky that Melody stopped singing and sought the safety of his hidden perch for the night. Peter felt sure that somewhere near was a nest and that one thing which had made that song so beautiful was the love Melody had been trying to express to the little mate sitting on the eggs that nest must contain. “I’ll just run back over here early in the morning,” thought Peter.

Wood Thrush by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

Now Peter is a great hand to stay out all night, and that is just what he did that night. Just before it was time for jolly, round, red Mr. Sun to kick off his rosy blankets and begin his daily climb up in the blue, blue sky, Peter started for home in the dear Old Briar-patch. Everywhere in the Green Forest, in the Old Orchard, on the Green Meadows, his feathered friends were awakening. He had quite forgotten his intention to visit Melody and was reminded of it only when again he heard those beautiful flute like notes. At once he scampered over to where he had spent such a peaceful hour the evening before. Melody saw him at once and dropped down on the ground for a little chat while he scratched among the leaves in search of his breakfast.

“I just love to hear you sing, Melody,” Peter said rather breathlessly. “I don’t know of any other song that makes me feel quite as yours does, so perfectly contented and free of care and worry.”

“Thank you,” replied Melody. “I’m glad you like to hear me sing for there is nothing I like to do better. It is the one way in which I can express my feelings. I love all the Great World and I just have to tell it so. I do not mean to boast when I say that all the Thrush family have good voices.”

“You have the best of all,” declared Peter.

Melody shook his brown head. “I wouldn’t say that,” he said modestly. “I think the song of my cousin Hermit, is even more beautiful than mine. And then there is my other cousin, Veery. His song is wonderful, I think.”

Just then Peter’s curiosity was greater than his interest in songs. “Have you built your nest yet?” he asked.

Melody nodded. “It is in a little tree not far from here,” he said, “and Mrs. Wood Thrush is sitting on five eggs this very minute. Isn’t that perfectly lovely?”

It was Peter’s turn to nod. “What is your nest built of?” he inquired.

Wood Thrushes feed on bugs including flies.

“Rootlets, tiny twigs, weed stalks, leaves, and mud,” replied Melody.

“Mud!” exclaimed Peter. “Why, that’s what Welcome Robin uses in his nest.”

“Well, Welcome Robin is my own cousin, so there isn’t anything so surprising in that,” replied Melody.

“Oh,” said Peter. “I had forgotten that he is a member of the Thrush family.”

“Yes, even if he is dressed quite differently from the rest of us,” replied Melody.

“You mentioned your cousin, Hermit. I don’t believe I know him,” said Peter.

“Then it’s high time you got acquainted with him,” answered Melody. “He is rather fond of being by himself and that is why he is called the Hermit Thrush. He is smaller than I and his coat is not such a bright brown. His tail is brighter than his coat. He has a waistcoat spotted very much like mine. Some folks consider him the most beautiful singer of the Thrush family. I’m glad you like my song, however you must hear Hermit sing. I really think there is no song so beautiful in all the Green Forest.”

“Does he build a nest like yours?” asked Peter.

“No,” replied Melody. “He builds his nest on the ground, and he doesn’t use any mud. Now if you’ll excuse me, Peter, I must get my breakfast and give Mrs. Wood Thrush a chance to get hers.”

A laughing brook in spring winding its way along the edge of the Green Forest.

So Peter continued on his way to the dear Old Briar-patch and there he spent the day. As evening approached he decided to go back to hear Melody sing again. Just as he drew near the Green Forest he heard from the direction of the Laughing Brook a song that caused him to change his mind and sent him hurrying in that direction. It was a very different song from that of Melody the Wood Thrush, yet, if he had never heard it before, Peter would have known that such a song could come from no throat except that of a member of the Thrush family. As he drew near the Laughing Brook the beautiful notes seemed to ring through the Green Forest like a bell.

As Melody’s song had filled Peter with a feeling of peace, so this song stirred in him a feeling of the wonderful mystery of life. There was in it the very spirit of the Green Forest.

It didn’t take Peter long to find the singer. It was a forest thrush named Veery.

At the sound of the patter of Peter’s feet the song stopped abruptly and he was greeted with a whistled “Wheeu! wheeu!” Then, seeing that it was no one of whom he need be afraid, Veery came out from under some ferns to greet Peter. He was smaller than Melody the Wood Thrush, being about one-fourth smaller than Welcome Robin. He wore a brown coat but it was not as bright as that of his cousin, Melody. His breast was somewhat faintly spotted with brown, and below he was white. His sides were grayish-white and not spotted like the sides of Melody.

“I heard you singing and I just had to come over to see you,” offered Peter.

“I hope you like my song,” said Veery. “I love to sing just at this hour and I love to think that other people like to hear me.”

“They do,” declared Peter most emphatically. “I can’t imagine how anybody could fail to like to hear you. I came way over here just to sit a while and listen. Won’t you sing some more for me, Veery?”

Peter Rabbit finds purple clover to be a sweet treat (and this one has a bonus bee! )

“I certainly will, Peter,” replied Veery. “I wouldn’t feel that I was going to bed right if I didn’t sing until dark. There is no part of the day I love better than the evening, and the only way I can express my happiness and my love of the Green Forest and the joy of just being back here at home is by singing.”

Veery slipped out of sight, and almost at once his bell like notes began to ring through the Green Forest. Peter sat right where he was, content to just listen and feel within himself the joy of being alive and happy in the beautiful spring season which Veery was expressing so wonderfully. The Dark Shadows grew blacker. One by one the little stars came out and twinkled down through the tree tops. Finally from deep in the Green Forest sounded the hunting call of Hooty the Owl. Veery’s song stopped. “Goodnight, Peter,” he called softly.

“Goodnight, Veery,” replied Peter and hopped back towards the Green Meadows for a feast of sweet clover.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Wood Thrush
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Veery
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – Bird ID: Songs and Calls
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – All About Feathers
  • Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte offers a page for the Wood Thrush (36). Colored pencil use recommended.

*This coloring book is inexpensive, easy to find, and an excellent companion to this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

Feathered Friend BONUS!

Wood Thrush

“Here am I come the Wood Thrush’s three clear, bell-like notes of self-introduction. The quality of his music is delicious, rich, penetrative, pure and vibrating like notes struck upon a harp. If you don’t already know this most neighborly of the thrushes—as he is also the largest and brightest and most heavily spotted of them all—you will presently become acquainted with one of the finest songsters in America. Wait until evening when he sings at his best. Nolee-a-e-o-lee-nolee-aeolee-lee! peals his song from the trees.

Wood thrushes seem to delight in weaving bits of paper or rags into their deep cradles which otherwise resemble the robins.’ A nest in the shrubbery near a bird-lover’s home in New Jersey had many bits of newspaper attached to its outer walls, the most conspicuous strip in front advertised in large letters “A House to be Let or Sold.” The original builders happily took the next lease, and another lot of nervous, fidgety baby tenants came out of four light greenish-blue eggs; and as usual, they moved away to the woods, after ten days, to join the choir invisible.” ~ Birds Every Child Should Know by Neltje Blanchan Copyright 1907

P.L.A.Y. + Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 30 – Thrasher + Mockingbird

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 30 – Jenny Wren’s Cousins

Peter Rabbit never will forget his surprise when Jenny Wren asked him one spring morning if he had seen anything of her big cousin. Peter hesitated. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t think of any big cousin of Jenny Wren. All the cousins he knew anything about were very nearly Jenny’s own size.

“Have you seen anything of my big cousin? It is high time for him to be here,” declared Jenny.

“To be quite honest, I don’t know him,” replied Peter.

“Oh yes you do, I mean Brownie the Thrasher!” boomed Jenny.

In his surprise Peter fairly jumped right off the ground. “What’s that?” he exclaimed. “Since when was Brownie the Thrasher related to the Wren family?”

“Ever since there have been any Wrens and Thrashers,” proclaimed Jenny. “Brownie belongs to one branch of the family and I belong to another, and that makes him my second cousin.”

“And here I have always supposed he belonged to the Thrush family,” Peter uttered. “He certainly looks like a Thrush.”

“Looking like one doesn’t make him one though,” observed Jenny. “And so do you know if he has he arrived yet?”

“Yes,” said Peter. “I saw him only yesterday on the edge of the Old Pasture. He was fussing around in the bushes and on the ground and jerking that long tail of his up and down and side wise as if he couldn’t decide what to do with it. I’ve never seen anybody twitch their tail
around the way he does.”

Jenny Wren giggled. “That’s just like him,” said she. “It is because he thrashes his tail around so much that he is called a Thrasher. And I suppose he was wearing his new spring suit.”

Thrasher by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“Well, I don’t know whether it was a new suit or not, however it was good looking,” replied Peter. “I just love that beautiful reddish-brown of his back, wings and tail, and it certainly does set off his white and buff waistcoat with those dark streaks and spots. You must admit, Jenny Wren, that any one seeing him dressed so much like the Thrushes is to be excused for thinking him a Thrush.”

“I suppose so,” admitted Jenny. “However, none of the Thrushes have such a bright brown coat. Did you notice what a long bill he has?”

Peter nodded. “And I noticed that he had two white bars on each wing,” he said.

“Did you hear him sing?” asked Jenny.

“Did I hear him sing? Oh yes!” cried Peter, his eyes shining at the memory. “He sang especially for me. He flew up to the top of a tree, tipped his head back and sang as few birds I know of can sing. He has a wonderful voice. And when he’s singing he acts as if he enjoyed it himself and knows what a good singer he is. I noticed that long tail of his hung straight down the same way Mr. Wren’s does when he sings.”

“Yes,” agreed Jenny. “That is a family trait and the tails of both my other big cousins do the same thing.”

“What’s that? Have you got more big cousins?” cried Peter in disbelief.

“Certainly,” reassured Jenny. “Mocker the Mockingbird and Kitty the Catbird belong to Brownie’s family, so they are my second cousins.”

Such a funny expression as there was on Peter’s face. He felt that Jenny Wren was telling the truth, and yet it was surprising news to him and so hard to believe that for a few minutes he couldn’t find his tongue to ask another question. Finally he ventured to ask, “Does Brownie imitate the songs of other birds the way Mocker and Kitty do?”

Jenny Wren shook her head. “No,” she said. “He’s perfectly satisfied with his own song.” Before she could add anything further the clear whistle of Glory the Cardinal sounded from a tree just a little way off. Instantly Peter forgot all about Jenny Wren’s relatives and scampered over to that tree. You see Glory is so beautiful that Peter never loses a chance to see him.

As Peter sat staring up into the tree, trying to get a glimpse of Glory’s beautiful red coat, the clear, sweet whistle sounded once more. It drew Peter’s eyes to one of the upper branches, and instead of the brilliant red coat of Glory the Cardinal he saw a bird about the size of Welcome Robin dressed in ashy-gray with two white bars on his wings, and white feathers on the outer edges of his tail. He was very trim and neat and his tail hung straight down after the manner of Brownie’s when he was singing. It was a long tail, although not as long as Brownie’s. Even as Peter blinked and stared in surprise the stranger opened his mouth and from it came Glory’s own beautiful whistle. Then the stranger looked down at Peter, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Fooled you that time, didn’t I, Peter?” he chuckled. “You thought you were going to see Glory the Cardinal.”

Mockingbirds are attracted to fruit trees.

Then without waiting for Peter to reply, this stranger gave such a concert as no one else in the world could give. From that wonderful throat poured out song after song and note after note of Peter’s familiar friends of the Old Orchard, and the performance wound up with a lovely song which was all the stranger’s own. Peter didn’t have to be told who the stranger was. It was Mocker the Mockingbird.

“Oh!” gasped Peter. “Oh, Mocker, how under the sun do you do it? I was sure that it was Glory whom I heard whistling. Never again will I be able to believe my own ears.”

Mocker chuckled. “You’re not the only one I’ve fooled, Peter,” he said. “I flatter myself that I can fool almost anybody if I set out to. It’s
lots of fun. I may not be much to look at, and yet when it comes to singing there’s no one I envy.”

“I think you are very nice looking indeed,” replied Peter politely. “I’ve just been finding out this morning that you can’t tell much about folks just by their looks.”

“And now you’ve learned that you can’t always recognize folks by their voices, haven’t you?” chuckled Mocker.

“Yes,” replied Peter. “Now I shall never be sure about any feathered folks unless I can both see and hear them. Would you sing for me again, Mocker?”

Blackberry brambles are much loved by mockingbirds.

Mocker did. He sang and sang, for he clearly loves to sing. When he finished Peter had another question ready. “Somebody told me once that down in the South you are the most loved of all the birds. Is that so?”

“That’s not for me to say,” replied Mocker modestly. “I can tell you this, Peter, they do think a lot of me down there. There are many birds down there who are very beautifully dressed, birds who don’t come up here at all. Not one of them is loved as I am, and it is all on account of my voice. I would rather have a beautiful voice than a fine coat.”

“There’s Mrs. Goldy the Oriole over there,” said Mocker. “Watch me fool her.”

He began to call in exact imitation of Goldy’s voice when he is anxious about something. At once Mrs. Goldy came hurrying over to find out what the trouble was. When she discovered Mocker she lost her temper and scolded him; then she flew away a perfect picture of indignation. Mocker and Peter laughed, for they thought it a good joke.

Suddenly Peter remembered what Jenny Wren had told him. “Jenny said that you are a second cousin of hers. Are you really?” he asked.

Mocker nodded. “Yes,” he said, “we are relatives. We each belong to a branch of the same family.” Then he burst into Mr. Wren’s own song,
after which he excused himself and went to look for Mrs. Mockingbird. For, as he explained, it was time for them to be thinking of a nest.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Brown Thrasher
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Northern Mockingbird
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available for both Mockingbird (p. 91-94) in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.
  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawings of a Brown Thrasher (p8) and a Mockingbird (p27).

  • Also a copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with a Brown Thrasher on page 38.

FYI -These coloring books are an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 29 – Vireo + Another Warbler

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 29 – The Constant Singers

Over in a maple tree on the edge of Farmer Brown’s door yard lived Redeye the Vireo and Mrs. Vireo. Peter Rabbit knew that they had a nest there because Jenny Wren had told him so. He would have guessed it anyway, because Redeye spent so much time in that tree during the nesting season. No matter what hour of the day Peter visited the Old Orchard he heard Redeye singing over in the maple tree. Peter used to think that if song is an expression of happiness, Redeye must be the happiest of all birds.

He was a little fellow about the size of one of the larger Warblers and quite as modestly dressed as any of Peter’s acquaintances. The crown of his head was gray with a little blackish border on either side. Over each eye was a white line. Underneath he was white. For the rest he was dressed in light olive-green. The first time he came down near enough for Peter to see him well Peter understood at once why he is called Redeye as his eyes were truly red.

However it wasn’t often that Redeye came down so near the ground that Peter could see his eyes. He preferred to spend most of his time in the tree tops, and Peter only got glimpses of him now and then. It was even less often that he actually heard him. “I don’t see when Redeye finds time to eat,” declared Peter as he listened to the seemingly unending song in the maple tree.

“Redeye believes in singing while he works,” said Jenny Wren. “For my part I should think he’d wear his throat out. When other birds sing they don’t do anything else versus Redeye sings all the time he is looking for his meals and only stops long enough to swallow a worm or a bug when he finds it. Just as soon as it is down he begins to sing again while he looks for another. And I must say for the Vireos that they are mighty good nest builders. Have you seen their nest over in that maple tree, Peter?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t dare go over there except very early in the morning before Farmer Brown’s folks are awake,” he said, “so I haven’t had much chance to look for it.”

“You probably couldn’t see it, anyway,” declared Jenny Wren. “They have placed it rather high up from the ground and those leaves are so thick that they hide it. It’s a regular little basket fastened in a fork near the end of a branch and it is woven almost as nicely as is the nest of Goldy the Oriole. How anybody has the patience to weave a nest like that is beyond me.”

“What is it made of?” asked Peter.

Maple tree leaves dressed in autumn red.

“Strips of bark, plant down, spider’s web, grass, and pieces of paper!” replied Jenny. “That’s a funny thing about Redeye; he dearly loves a piece of paper in his nest. He’s as fussy about having a scrap of paper as Cresty the Flycatcher is about having a piece of snake skin. I had just a peep into that nest a few days ago and unless I am greatly mistaken Sally the Cowbird has managed to impose on the Verios. I am certain I saw one of her eggs in that nest.”

A few mornings after this talk with Jenny Wren about Redeye the Vireo Peter once more visited the Old Orchard. No sooner did he come in sight than Jenny Wren’s tongue began to fly. “What did I tell you, Peter Rabbit? I knew it was so, and it is!” cried Jenny.

“What is so?” asked Peter, for he hadn’t the least idea what Jenny Wren was talking about.

“Sally the Cowbird did lay an egg in Redeye’s nest, and now it has hatched and I don’t know whatever is to become of Redeye’s own children!” cried Jenny, and hopped about and jerked her tail and worked herself into a small brown fury.

“The Vireos are working themselves to feathers and bone feeding that young Cowbird while their own babies aren’t getting half enough to eat,” continued Jenny. “One of them has died already. He was kicked out of the nest by that young Cowbird.”

“Oh my!” cried Peter. “If he does things like that I should think the Vireos would throw him out of the nest.”

“They’re too soft-hearted,” declared Jenny. “They say it isn’t his fault that he’s there, and that he’s nothing but a helpless baby, and so they just take care of him.”

“Then why don’t they feed their own babies first and give him what’s left?” Peter wondered.

Curious Capkin finds a strip of bark just right for a bird’s nest.

“Because he’s twice as big as any of their own babies and so strong that he simply snatches the food out of the very mouths of the others. Because he gets most of the food, he’s growing twice as fast as they are. He might kick all the rest of them out before he gets through. Mr. and Mrs. Vireo are dreadfully distressed about it, and yet they will feed him because they say it isn’t his fault.”

“Speaking of the Vireos, Redeye seems to be the only member of his family around here,” remarked Peter.

“Hold on, listen!” said Jenny Wren. “Do you hear that warbling song way over in the big elm in front of Farmer Brown’s house where Goldy the Oriole has his nest?”

Peter listened. At first he didn’t hear it, and then he did. The voice was not unlike that of Redeye, the song was smoother though, more continuous and sweeter. Peter’s face lit up. “I do hear it,” he cried.

“That’s Redeye’s cousin, the Warbling Vireo,” said Jenny. “He sings from the time jolly Mr. Sun gets up in the morning until he goes to bed at night. He sings when it is so hot that the rest of us are glad to keep still for comfort’s sake. I don’t know of anybody more fond of the tree tops than he is. He doesn’t seem to care anything about the Old Orchard, he just stays over in those big trees along the road. He’s got a nest over in that big elm and it is as high up as that of Goldy the Oriole; I haven’t seen it myself, Goldy told me about it.”

“Somehow I don’t remember just what Warble looks like,” Peter confessed.

“He looks a lot like his cousin, Redeye,” replied Jenny. “His coat is a little duller olive-green and underneath he is a little bit yellowish instead of white. Of course he doesn’t have red eyes, and he is a little smaller than Redeye. The whole family looks pretty much alike anyway.”

“They get me all mixed up,” declared Peter. “If only some of them had some bright colors it would be easier to tell them apart.”

“One has,” replied Jenny Wren. “He has a bright yellow throat and breast and is called the Yellow-throated Vireo. There isn’t the least chance of mistaking him.”

“Is he a singer, too?” asked Peter.

“Oh yes,” replied Jenny. “Every one in that family loves to sing. It’s a family trait. Now I must get on with my day, goodbye Peter.”

“Goodbye Jenny!” Peter called out as he hopped away to the dear Old Briar-patch.

Some birds prefer tall trees, especially for their homes.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Red-eyed Vireo
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Yellow-throated Warbler
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available for both Maple Tree + Elm Tree (p. 628-637 ) in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.
  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawings of a Yellowthroat (p45) and a Red-eyed Vireo (p33).

FYI -This coloring book is an excellent companion for this bird story series with most of the 50 birds represented as characters throughout the chapters.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 28 – Rose-breasted Grosbeak + Scarlet Tanager

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 28 – Peter Sees Rosebreast and Finds Redcoat

“Who is that?” Peter Rabbit pricked up his long ears and stared up at the tops of the trees of the Old Orchard.

Instantly Jenny Wren popped her head out of her doorway. She cocked her head to one side to listen.

Just then there were two or three rather sharp, squeaky notes from the top of one of the trees. “There!” cried Peter. “Did you hear that, Jenny?”

“Peter, that’s Rosebreast the Grosbeak. He and Mrs. Grosbeak have been here for quite a little while,” said Jenny, “Just listen to that song!”

Peter listened. There were many songs, for it was a very beautiful morning and all the singers of the Old Orchard were pouring out the joy that was within them. One song was a little louder and clearer than the others because it came from a tree very close at hand, the very tree from which those squeaky notes had come just a few minutes before. Peter suspected that that must be the song Jenny Wren meant. He was puzzled. “Do you mean Welcome Robin’s song?” he asked.

“No” said Jenny. “That song may sound something like Welcome Robin’s, and yet it isn’t Welcome Robin singing. Welcome Robin’s song is one of good cheer, and this one is of pure happiness.”

“Now you speak of it, Jenny, that song is quite different from Welcome Robin’s,” agreed Peter.

“That is Rosebreast singing right up in the top of that tree,” Jenny pointed out.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

Peter looked up to see a bird a little smaller than Welcome Robin. His head, throat and back were black. His wings were black with patches of white on them. And it was his breast that made Peter catch his breath with a little gasp of admiration, for that breast was a beautiful rose-red. The rest of him underneath was white.

“Isn’t he lovely!” cried Peter, and added in the next breath, “Who is that with him?”

“Mrs. Grosbeak” replied Jenny.

“I would never have guessed it,” said Peter. “She doesn’t look the least bit like him.”

This was quite true. There was no rose color about Mrs. Grosbeak. She was dressed chiefly in brown and grayish colors with a little buff here and there and with dark streaks on her breast. Over each eye was a whitish line. Altogether she looked more as if she might be a big member of the Sparrow family than the wife of Rosebreast. While Rosebreast sang, Mrs. Grosbeak was very busily picking buds and blossoms from the tree.

“What is she doing that for?” inquired Peter.

“For the same reason that you bite off sweet clover blossoms and leaves,” replied Jenny Wren.

“Do you mean to say that they live on buds and blossoms?” asked Peter.

“Tut, tut, tut! Buds and blossoms don’t last long enough,” said Jenny. “They eat a few just for variety, and then mostly live on bugs and insects. You ask Farmer Brown’s boy who helps him most in his potato patch, and he’ll tell you it’s the Grosbeaks. They certainly do love potato bugs. They eat some fruit, however on the whole they are about as useful around a garden as any one I know. Now it is time to run along, Peter Rabbit.”

Buds and blossoms on an apple tree.

Seeing Farmer Brown’s boy coming through the Old Orchard Peter decided that it was high time for him to depart. So he scampered for the Green Forest, lipperty-lipperty-lip. Just within the edge of the Green Forest he caught sight of something which for the time being put all thought of Farmer Brown’s boy out of his head. Fluttering on the ground was a bird about the size of Redwing the Blackbird. His wings and tail were pure black and all the rest was a beautiful scarlet. It was Redcoat the Tanager. At first Peter had eyes only for the wonderful beauty of Redcoat. Never before had he seen Redcoat so close at hand. Then quite suddenly it came over Peter that something was wrong with Redcoat, and he hurried forward to see what the trouble might be.

Redcoat heard the rustle of Peter’s feet among the dry leaves and at once began to flap and flutter in an effort to fly away, and yet he could not get off the ground. “What is it, Redcoat? Has something happened to you? It is just Peter Rabbit. You don’t have anything to fear from me,” Peter said.

The look of terror which had been in the eyes of Redcoat died out, and he stopped fluttering and simply lay panting.

“Oh, Peter,” he gasped, “you don’t know how glad I am that it is only you. I’ve had a terrible accident, and I don’t know what I am to do. I can’t fly, and if I have to stay on the ground some predator will be sure to get me. What shall I do, Peter?”

Right away Peter wanted to help. “What kind of an accident was it, Redcoat, and how did it happen?” he asked.

“Broadwing the Hawk tried to catch me,” sobbed Redcoat. “In dodging him among the trees I did not see just where I was going. I struck a sharp-pointed dead twig and drove it right through my right wing.”

Redcoat held up his right wing and sure enough there was a small stick projecting from both sides close up to the shoulder. The wing was bleeding a little.

“Oh, dear, whatever shall I do, Peter Rabbit?” sobbed Redcoat.

Scarlet Tanager by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“Does it pain you dreadfully?” asked Peter.

Redcoat nodded. “I don’t mind the pain,” he hastened to say. “It is the thought of what may happen to me.”

Meanwhile Mrs. Tanager was flying about in the tree tops near at hand and calling anxiously. She was dressed almost wholly in light olive-green and greenish-yellow. She looked no more like Redcoat than did Mrs. Grosbeak like Rosebreast.

“Can’t you fly up just a little way so as to get off the ground?” she cried anxiously. “Isn’t it dreadful, Peter Rabbit, to have such an accident? We’ve just got our nest half built, and I don’t know what Ishall do if anything happens to Redcoat. Oh dear, here comes somebody! Hide, Redcoat! Hide!” Mrs. Tanager flew off a short distance to one side and began to cry as if in the greatest distress. Peter knew instantly that she was crying to get the attention of whoever was coming.

Poor Redcoat, with the old look of terror in his eyes, fluttered along, trying to find something under which to hide. There was nothing under which he could crawl, and there was no hiding that wonderful red coat. Peter heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and looking back, saw that Farmer Brown’s boy was coming. “Don’t be afraid, Redcoat,” he whispered. “It’s Farmer Brown’s boy and I’m sure he won’t hurt you. Perhaps he can help you.” Then Peter scampered off for a short distance and sat up to watch what would happen.

Of course Farmer Brown’s boy saw Redcoat. He saw, too, by the way Redcoat was acting, that he was in great trouble. As Farmer Brown’s boy drew near and Redcoat saw that he was discovered, he tried his hardest to flutter away. Farmer Brown’s boy understood instantly that something was wrong with one wing, and running forward, he caught Redcoat.

“You poor, beautiful little creature,” said Farmer Brown’s boy softly as he saw the twig sticking through Redcoats’ shoulder. “We’ll have to get that out right away,” continued Farmer Brown’s boy, stroking Redcoat ever so gently.

Somehow with that gentle touch Redcoat lost much of his fear, and a little hope sprang in his heart. He saw, too, that this was a friend. Farmer Brown’s boy took out his knife and carefully cut off the twig on the upper side of the wing. Then, doing his best to be careful and to hurt as little as possible, he worked the other part of the twig out from the under side. Carefully he examined the wing to see if any bones were broken. None were, and after holding Redcoat a few minutes he carefully set him up in a tree and withdrew a short distance. Redcoat hopped from branch to branch until he was halfway up the tree. Then he sat there for some time as if fearful of trying that injured wing. Meanwhile Mrs. Tanager came and fussed about him and talked to him and coaxed him and made as much of him as if he were a baby.

Peter remained right where he was until at last he saw Redcoat spread his black wings and fly to another tree. From tree to tree he flew, resting a bit in each until he and Mrs. Tanager disappeared in the Green Forest.

“I knew Farmer Brown’s boy would help him, and I’m so glad he found him,” Peter pronounced happily and started for the dear Old Briar-patch.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Rose-breasted Grosbeak
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Scarlet Tanager
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available for the Old Orchard filled with Apple Trees (p.661-668 ) in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.
  • A copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with a Rose-breasted Grosbeak coloring page (p18) and a Scarlet Tanager on page 37.

FYI -This coloring book is an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 27 – Cardinal + Catbird

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

CHAPTER 27 – A New Friend and an Old One

Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he caught a glimpse of Glory the Cardinal, sometimes called Redbird. He had come up to the Old Orchard for his usual morning visit and just as he hopped over the old stone wall he heard a beautiful clear, loud whistle which drew his eyes to the top of an apple tree. Peter stopped short with a little gasp of sheer astonishment and delight. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. He couldn’t quite believe what he saw. He hadn’t supposed that anyone, even among the feathered folks, could be quite so beautiful.

The stranger was dressed all in red, except a little black around the base of his bill. Even his bill was red. He wore a beautiful red crest which made him distinguished looking, and how he could sing! Peter had noticed that quite often the most beautifully dressed birds have the poorest songs. This stranger’s song was remarkably beautiful as his coat. Of course he lost no time in finding Jenny Wren. “Who is it, Jenny? Who is that beautiful stranger with such a lovely song?” cried Peter, as soon as he caught sight of her.

“It’s Glory the Cardinal,” replied Jenny. “Isn’t he the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen? I do hope he is going to stay here. As I said before, I don’t often envy anyone’s fine clothes, although when I see Glory I’m sometimes tempted to be envious. If I were Mrs. Cardinal I’m afraid I should be jealous. There she is in the very same tree with him. Did you ever see such a difference?”

Cardinal by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

Peter looked eagerly. Instead of red like Glory, Mrs. Cardinal’s back was a brownish-gray. Her throat was a grayish-black. Her breast was a dull buff with a faint tinge of red. Her wings and tail were tinged with dull red.

Altogether she was very trim, neat looking little person. And she could sing.

“Glory’s a model husband,” remarked Jenny. “If they make their home around here you’ll find him doing his full share in the care of their babies. Sometimes they raise two families. When they do that, Glory takes charge of the first lot of youngsters as soon as they are able to leave the nest so that Mrs. Cardinal has nothing to worry about while she is sitting on the second lot of eggs. He fusses over them as if they were the only children in the world. Excuse me, Peter, I’m going over to find out if they are really going to stay.”

When Jenny returned she was so excited she couldn’t keep still a minute. “They like it here, Peter!” she cried. “They like it so much that if they can find a place to suit them for a nest they’re going to stay. I told them that it is the very best place in the world. They like an evergreen tree to build in, and I think they’ve got their eyes on those evergreens up near Farmer Brown’s house.”

Simply sweet evergreens after a spring rain.

Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal whistled and sang as if their hearts were bursting with joy, and Peter stayed awhile to listen. He would have sat there the rest of the morning had he not caught sight of an old friend of whom he is very fond, Kitty the Catbird. In contrast with Glory, Kitty seemed a regular little Quaker, for he was dressed almost all in gray, a rather dark, slate-gray. The top of his head and tail were black, and right at the base of his tail was a patch of chestnut color. He was a little smaller than Welcome Robin.

Peter forgot all about Glory in his pleasure at discovering the returned Kitty and hurried over to welcome him. Kitty had disappeared among the bushes along the old stone wall, and Peter had no trouble in finding him because of the odd cries he was uttering, which were very like the meow of Black Shadow the Cat. They were very harsh and unpleasant and Peter understood perfectly why their maker is called the Catbird. He did not hurry in among the bushes at once instead he just waited expectantly. In a few minutes the harsh cries ceased and then there came from the very same place a song which seemed to be made up of parts of the songs of all the other birds of the Old Orchard.

It was not loud, it was simply charming. It contained the clear whistle of Glory, and there was even the tinkle of Little Friend the Song Sparrow. The notes of other friends were in that song, and with them were notes of southern birds whose songs Kitty had learned while spending the winter in the South. Then there were notes all his own.

Peter listened until the song ended, then scampered in among the bushes. At once those harsh cries broke out again. You would have thought that Kitty was scolding Peter for coming to see him instead of being glad. That was just Kitty’s way. He is simply brimming over with fun and mischief, and delights to pretend.

When Peter found him, he was sitting with all his feathers puffed out until he looked almost like a ball with a head and tail. He looked positively sleepy. Then as he caught sight of Peter he drew those feathers down tight, cocked his tail up after the manner of Jenny Wren, and was as slim and trim looking as any bird of Peter’s acquaintance. He didn’t look at all like the same bird of the moment before. Then he dropped his tail as if he hadn’t strength enough to hold it up at all. It hung straight down. He dropped his wings and all in a second made himself look fairly different. And all the time his eyes were twinkling and snapping, and Peter knew that these changes in appearance were made out of pure fun and mischief.

“I’ve been wondering if you were coming back,” Peter called out. “I don’t know of any one of my feathered friends I would miss so much as you.”

“Thank you,” responded Kitty. “It’s very nice of you to say that, Peter.”

Catbird by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“Did you pass a pleasant winter down South?” asked Peter.

“Fairly so,” replied Kitty. “By the way, Peter, I picked up some new songs down there. Would you like to hear them?”

“Of course,” replied Peter, “although I don’t think you need any new songs. I’ve never seen such a fellow for picking up other people’s songs excepting Mocker the Mockingbird.”

At the mention of Mocker a little cloud crossed Kitty’s face for just an instant. “There’s a fellow I really envy,” said he. “I’m pretty good at imitating others, and yet Mocker is better. I’m hoping that, if I practice enough, some day I can be as good. I saw a lot of him in the South and he certainly is clever.”

“You don’t need to envy him,” said Peter. “You are some imitator yourself. How about those new notes you got when you were in the South?”

Kitty’s face cleared, his throat swelled and he began to sing. It was a regular medley. It didn’t seem as if so many notes could come from one throat. When it ended Peter had a question all ready.

“Are you going to build somewhere near here?” he asked.

“I certainly am,” replied Kitty. “Mrs. Catbird was delayed a day or two. I hope she’ll get here today and then we’ll get busy at once. I think we shall build in these bushes here somewhere. I’m glad Farmer Brown has sense enough to let them grow. They are just the kind of a place I like for a nest. They are near enough to Farmer Brown’s garden, and the Old Orchard is right here.”

“Why do you want to be near Farmer Brown’s garden?” Peter asked.

“Because that is where I will get a good part of my living,” Kitty answered. “He ought to be glad to have me about. Once in awhile I take a little fruit, and then I pay for it ten times over by the number of bugs and worms I get in his garden and the Old Orchard. I pride myself on being useful. There’s nothing like being useful in this world, Peter.”

Peter nodded as if he quite agreed.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Northern Cardinal
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Gray Catbird
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – BIRD ACADEMY – Catbird = An Expert Mimic (video)
  • Nature journal coloring pages at Cornell Common Feeder Birds FREE (page W55 Northern Cardinal).
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available for both Northern (Grosbeak) Cardinal (p. 127) and Catbird (p. 95) in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.
  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawings of a Northern Cardinal (p10) and a Gray Catbird (p11).

  • Also a copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with a Cardinal on page 5.

FYI -These coloring books are an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 26 – Even More Warblers

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 26 – Peter Gets a Crick in His Neck Visiting Some Warblers in the Green Forest

For several days it seemed to Peter Rabbit that everywhere he went he found members of the Warbler family. Being eager to know all of them he did his best to remember how each one looked, it was just that there were so many and some of them were dressed so nearly alike that after awhile Peter became so mixed up that he gave up. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the Warblers disappeared. That is to say, most of them disappeared. You see they had only stopped for a visit, being on their way farther north.

In his interest in the affairs of others of his feathered friends, Peter had quite forgotten the Warblers. Then one day when he was in the Green Forest where the spruce trees grow, he stopped to rest. This particular part of the Green Forest was low and damp, and on many of the trees gray moss grew, hanging down from the branches and making the trees look much older than they really were. Peter was staring at a hanging branch of this moss without thinking anything about it when suddenly a little bird alighted on it and disappeared in it. At least, that is what Peter thought. It was all so unexpected that he couldn’t be sure his eyes hadn’t fooled him.

Of course, right away he became very much interested in that bunch of moss. He stared at it very hard. At first it looked no different from a dozen other bunches of moss, then presently he noticed that it was a little thicker than other bunches, as if somehow it had been woven together. He hopped off to one side so he could see better. It looked as if in one side of that bunch of moss was a little round hole. Peter blinked and looked very hard indeed to make sure. A minute later there was no doubt at all, for a little feathered head was poked out and a second later a dainty mite of a bird flew out and alighted very close to Peter. It was one of the smaller members of the Warbler family.

“Sprite!” cried Peter joyously. “I missed you when your cousins passed through here, and I thought you had gone to the Far North with the rest of them.”

The Green Forest in the spring before the foliage fills in on all the trees.

“Well, I haven’t, and what’s more I’m not going to go on to the Far North. I’m going to stay right here,” declared Sprite the Parula Warbler.

As Peter looked at Sprite he couldn’t help thinking that there wasn’t a daintier member in the whole Warbler family. His coat was of a soft bluish color with a yellowish patch in the very center of his back. Across each wing were two bars of white. His throat was yellow. Just beneath it was a little band of bluish-black. His breast was yellow and his sides were grayish and brownish-chestnut.

“Sprite, you’re just beautiful,” declared Peter in frank admiration. “What was the reason I didn’t see you up in the Old Orchard with your cousins?”

“Because I wasn’t there,” was Sprite’s prompt reply as he flitted about, quite unable to sit still a minute. “I wasn’t there because I like the Green Forest better, so I came straight here.”

“What were you doing just now in that bunch of moss?” Peter inquired, a sudden suspicion of the truth popping into his head.

“Just looking it over,” replied Sprite, trying to look innocent.

At that very instant Peter looked up just in time to see a tail disappearing in the little round hole in the side of the bunch of moss. He knew that that tail belonged to Mrs. Sprite, and just that glimpse told him all he wanted to know.

“You’ve got a nest in there!” Peter exclaimed excitedly. “There’s no use denying it, Sprite; you’ve got a nest in there! What a perfectly lovely place for a nest.”

Sprite saw at once that it would be quite useless to try to deceive Peter. “Yes,” said he, “Mrs. Sprite and I have a nest in there. We’ve just finished it. I think myself it is rather nice. We always build in moss like this. All we have to do is to find a nice thick bunch and then weave it together at the bottom and line the inside with fine grasses. It looks so much like all the rest of the bunches of moss that it is seldom any one finds it.”

“Isn’t it rather lonesome over here by yourselves?” asked Peter.

“Not at all,” replied Sprite. “You see, we are not as much alone as you think. My cousin, Fidget the Myrtle Warbler, is nesting not very far away, and another cousin Weechi the Magnolia Warbler is also quite near. Both have begun housekeeping already.”

Of course Peter was all excitement and interest at once. “Where are their homes?” he asked eagerly. “Tell me where they are and I’ll go straight over and say hello.”

“Peter,” reminded Sprite, “you ought to know better than to ask me to tell you anything of this kind. You have been around enough to know that there is no secret so precious as the secret of a home. You happened to find mine, and I guess I can trust you not to tell anybody where it is. If you can find the homes of Fidget and Weechi, all right, however I certainly don’t intend to tell you where they are.”

The Green Forest in the late summer when the trees are lush and full.

Peter knew that Sprite was quite right in refusing to tell the secrets of his cousins, and yet he couldn’t think of going home without at least looking for those homes. He tried to look very innocent as he asked if they also were in hanging bunches of moss. Sprite was too smart to be fooled and Peter learned nothing at all.

For some time Peter hopped around this way and that way, thinking every bunch of moss he saw must surely contain a nest. Though he looked and looked, not another little round hole did he find, and there were so many bunches of moss that finally his neck ached from tipping his head back so much. So after a while Peter’s patience ran out and he gave up the search and started on his way home. On higher ground, just above the low swampy place where grew the moss covered trees, he came to a lot of young hemlock trees. These had no moss on them. Having given up his search Peter was thinking of other things when there flitted across in front of him a black and gray bird with a yellow cap, yellow sides, and a yellow patch at the root of his tail. Those yellow patches were all Peter needed to see to recognize Fidget the Myrtle Warbler, one of the two friends he had been so long looking for down among the moss covered trees.

“Oh, Fidget!” cried Peter, hurrying after the restless little bird. “Oh, Fidget! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Well, here I am,” Fidget answered. “What can I do for you?” All the time Fidget was hopping and flitting about, never still an instant.

“You can tell me where your nest is,” replied Peter promptly.

“I can, although I won’t,” said Fidget.

“Sprite told me that you had a nest not very far from his,” Peter explained, “and I’ve looked at bunches of moss until I’ve got a crick in the back of my neck and I was just curious to know.”

“Bunches of moss!” exclaimed Fidget. “What under the sun do you think I have to do with bunches of moss?”

“Why I just thought you probably had your nest in one, the same as your cousin Sprite,” admitted Peter.

Fidget laughed right out. “I’m afraid you would have a worse crick in the back of your neck than you’ve got now before ever you found my nest in a bunch of moss,” said he. “Moss may suit my cousin Sprite, it doesn’t suit me at all. Besides, I don’t like those dark places where the moss grows on the trees. I build my nest of twigs and grass and weed stalks and I line it with hair and rootlets and feathers. Sometimes I bind it together with spider silk, and if you really want to know, I like a little hemlock tree to put it in. It isn’t very far from here, where it is though I’m not going to tell you. Have you seen my cousin,Weechi?”

“No,” replied Peter. “Is he anywhere around here?”

“Right here,” replied another voice and Weechi the Magnolia Warbler dropped down on the ground for just a second right in front of Peter.

The Green Forest in autumn as the leaves begin to change into a carpet of colors.

The top of his head and the back of his neck were gray. Above his eye was a white stripe and his cheeks were black. His throat was clear yellow, just below which was a black band. From this black streaks ran down across his yellow breast. At the root of his tail he was yellow. His tail was mostly black on top and white underneath. His wings were black and gray with two white bars. He was a little smaller than Fidget the Myrtle Warbler and quite as restless.

Peter fairly itched to ask Weechi where his nest was, however by this time he had learned a lesson, so wisely kept his tongue still.

“What were you fellows talking about?” asked Weechi.

“Nests,” replied Fidget. “I’ve just been telling Peter that while Cousin Sprite may like to build in that hanging moss down there, it wouldn’t suit me at all.”

“Nor me either,” declared Weechi promptly. “By the way, Fidget, I stopped to look at your nest this morning. I find we build a good deal alike and we like the same sort of a place to put it. I suppose you know that I am a rather near neighbor of yours?”

“Yes,” replied Fidget. “In fact I watched you start your nest. Don’t you think you have it rather near the ground?”

“Not too near, I like to be within two or three feet of the ground ” answered Weechi.

“I do as well,” replied Fidget.

Fidget and Weechi became so interested in discussing nests and the proper way of building them they quite forgot Peter Rabbit. Peter sat around for a while listening, then being more interested in seeing those nests than hearing about them, he finally went away to look for them.

The Green Forest as winter arrives.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Northern Parula
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Yellow-rumped Warbler (Eastern)
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – Magnolia Warbler
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – BIRD SONG HERO – with all these Warbler songs it is time to play Bird Song Hero!
  • Q/A –Questions with answers to keep this conversation going are available about the Green Forest with a focus on the Hemlock Tree (p.679-680 ) in the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock offered FREE online HERE.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 25 – More Warblers

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 25 – Three Cousins Quite Unlike

As Peter Rabbit passed one of the apple trees in the Old Orchard, a thin, wiry voice hailed him. “Hello, Peter Rabbit,” said the voice.

Peter, who had been hopping along rather fast, stopped abruptly to look up. Running along a limb just over his head, now on top and now underneath, was a little bird with a black and white striped coat and a white waistcoat. Just as Peter looked it flew down to near the base of the tree and began to run straight up the trunk, picking things from the bark here and there as it ran. Its way of going up that tree trunk reminded Peter of one of his winter friends, Seep-Seep the Brown Creeper.

“It is a wonder that you haven’t greeted me yet after I traveled all this way from South America,” said the little black and white bird with twinkling eyes.

“Oh, Creeper, I didn’t know you were here!” cried Peter. “I’m so glad to see you, just as glad as can be. You are such a quiet fellow I’m afraid I shouldn’t have seen you at all if you hadn’t spoken. You know it’s always been hard work for me to believe that you are really and truly a Warbler.”

“Why so?” asked Creeper the Black-and-white Warbler, for that is the name by which he is commonly known. “Don’t I look like a Warbler?”

“Well, yes,” said Peter slowly. “You look like one however you don’t act like one.”

“In what way do I not act like one?” questioned Creeper.

“Well,” replied Peter, “all the rest of the Warblers can’t seem to keep still a minute. They are forever flitting about this way and that way. It tires me just to watch them. And you are not a bit that way. Also the way you run up tree trunks and along the limbs isn’t a bit Warbler like. Why is it you don’t flit and dart about as the others do?”

Old Orchard apple tree with plenty of insects and such on the trunk and branches for Warbler’s to dine on.

Creeper’s bright eyes sparkled. “I don’t have to,” he said. “I’m going to let you into a little secret, Peter. The rest of them get their living from the leaves and twigs and in the air, however I’ve discovered an easier way. I’ve found out that there are lots of little worms and insects and eggs on the trunks and big limbs of the trees and that I can get the best kind of a living there without flitting about. I don’t have to share them with anybody except the Woodpeckers, Nuthatches, and DeeDee the Chickadee.”

“That reminds me,” said Peter. “Those folks you have mentioned nest in holes in trees; do you?”

“Oh, I should say not,” remarked Creeper. “I don’t know of any Warbler who does. I build on the ground and I nest in the Green Forest. Sometimes I make my nest in a little hollow at the base of a tree; sometimes I put it under a stump or rock or tuck it in under the roots of a tree that has been blown over.”

And so Creeper continued on up the trunk of the tree, picking here and picking there. Just then Peter caught sight of another friend whom he could always tell by the black mask he wore. It was Mummer the Yellow-throat. He had just darted into the thicket of bushes along the old stone wall. Peter promptly hurried over there to look for him.

When Peter reached the place where he had caught a glimpse of Mummer, no one was to be seen. Peter sat down, uncertain which way to go. Suddenly Mummer popped out right in front of Peter, seemingly from nowhere at all.

His throat and breast were bright yellow and his back wings and tail a soft olive-green. And the most remarkable thing about him was the mask of black right across his cheeks, eyes and forehead. At least it looked like a mask, although it really wasn’t one.

“Hello, Mummer!” Peter called out.

“Hello yourself, Peter Rabbit!” Mummer answered and then disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared.

Peter blinked and looked in vain all about.

Toppled tree with a root ball as an option for a Warbler’s nest.

“Looking for someone?” asked Mummer, suddenly popping into view where Peter least expected him.

“For goodness sake,” Peter pronounced, “how do you expect a fellow to talk to you when he can’t keep his eyes on you more than two seconds at a time!”

“You wanted to talk to me?” responded Mummer, and popped out of sight. Two seconds later he was back again and his bright little eyes fairly shone with mischief. Then before Peter could say a word Mummer burst into a pleasant little song. He was so full of happiness that Peter couldn’t be cross with him.

“There is something I like about you, Mummer,” declared Peter, “and that is that I never get you mixed up with anybody else. I should know you just as far as I could see you because of that black mask across your face. Has Mrs. Yellow-throat arrived yet?”

“Certainly,” replied another voice, and Mrs. Yellow-throat flitted across right in front of Peter. For just a second she sat still, long enough for him to have one good look at her. She was dressed very like Mummer save that she did not wear the black mask.

Peter was just about to say something polite and pleasant when from just back of him there sounded a loud, very emphatic, “Chut! Chut!” Peter whirled about to find another old friend. It was Chut-Chut the Yellow-breasted Chat, the largest of the Warbler family. He was so much bigger than Mummer that it was hard to believe that they were own cousins. Although Peter knew they were, and he also knew that he could never mistake Chut-Chut for any other member of the family because of his big size, which was that of some of the members of the Sparrow family. His back was a dark olive-green, and his throat and breast were a beautiful bright yellow. There was a broad white line above each eye and a little white line underneath. Below his breast he was all white.

To have seen him you would have thought that he suspected Peter might do him some harm, or at least he acted that way. If Peter hadn’t known him so well he might have been offended. Peter knew that there is no one among his feathered friends more cautious than Chut-Chut the Chat. He never takes anything for granted. He appears to be always on the watch for danger, even to the extent of suspecting his very best friends.

Bramble tangles in the winter clearly seen without their foliage.

When he had decided in his own mind that there was no danger, Chut-Chut came out to talk for a bit. And like all the rest of the Warblers he couldn’t keep still. Right in the middle of the story of his travels from far away Mexico he flew to the top of a little tree, began to sing, then flew out into the air with his legs dangling and his tail wagging up and down in the funniest way, and there continued his song as he slowly dropped down into the thicket again. It was a beautiful song and Peter hastened to tell him so.

Chut-Chut was pleased. He showed it by giving a little concert all by himself. It seemed to Peter that he never had heard such a variety of whistles and calls and songs as came from that yellow throat. When it was over Chut-Chut abruptly said goodbye and disappeared. Peter could hear his sharp “Chut! Chut!” farther along in the thicket as he hunted for worms among the bushes.

“I wonder,” said Peter, speaking out loud as he was thinking, “where he builds his nest. I wonder if he builds it on the ground, the way Creeper does.”

“No,” declared Mummer, who all the time had been darting about close at hand. “He doesn’t, although I do. Chut-Chut puts his nest near the ground, however, usually within two or three feet. He builds it in bushes or briars. Sometimes if I can find a good tangle of briars I build my nest in it several feet from the ground, and as a rule I would rather have it on the ground under a bush or in a clump of weeds. Have you seen my cousin Sprite the Parula Warbler, yet?”

“Not yet,” said Peter, and he started for home.

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤

Bird BOOK LOOK – Chapter 24 – Redstart + Yellow Warbler

Missed Chapter 1? Begin HERE

Chapter 24 – The Warblers Arrive

If there is one family of feathered friends which perplexes Peter Rabbit more than another, it is the Warbler family.

“So many of them come together and they move about so constantly that a fellow doesn’t have a chance to look at one long enough to recognize him,” Peter mentioned to Jenny Wren one morning when the Old Orchard was fairly alive with little birds no bigger than Jenny Wren herself.

And such restless little folks they were! They were not still an instant, flitting from tree to tree, twig to twig, darting out into the air and all the time keeping up an endless chattering mingled with little snatches of song. Peter would no sooner fix his eyes on one than another entirely different in appearance would take its place. Occasionally he would see one whom he recognized, one who would stay for the nesting season. The majority of them would stop only for a day or two, being bound farther north to make their summer homes.

Jenny was a little fearful these birds would not leave enough for her to get her own meals easily as there were so many of them and they were so busy catching all kinds of small insects.

“I don’t see what they have to stop here for,” uttered Jenny. “They could just as well go somewhere else where they would not be taking the food out of the mouths of folks who are here to stay all summer.”

As for Peter, he was thoroughly enjoying this visit of the Warblers, despite the fact that he was having no end of trouble trying to tell who was who. Suddenly one darted down and snapped up a fly almost under Peter’s very nose and was back up in a tree before Peter could get his breath.

“It’s Zee Zee the Redstart!” cried Peter joyously.

Redstart by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“I would know Zee Zee anywhere. Do you know who he reminds me of, Jenny Wren?” asked Peter.

“Who?” Jenny inquired.

“Goldy the Oriole,” Peter replied . “Only of course he’s ever so much smaller. He’s all black and orange-red and white as Goldy is, only there isn’t quite so much orange on him.”

For just an instant Zee Zee sat still with his tail spread. His head, throat and back were black and there was a black band across the end of his tail and a black stripe down the middle of it. The rest was bright orange-red. On each wing was a band of orange-red and his sides were the same color. Underneath he was white tinged more or less with orange.

It was only for an instant that Zee Zee sat still; then he was in the air, darting, diving, whirling, going through all sorts of antics as he caught tiny insects too small for Peter to see. Peter began to wonder how he kept still long enough to sleep at night. And his voice was quite as busy as his wings. “Zee, zee, zee, zee!” he would cry. This was only one of many notes. At times he would sing a beautiful little song and then again it would seem as if he were trying to imitate other members of the Warbler family.

“I do hope Zee Zee is going to stay here,” said Peter. “I just love to watch him.”

“I don’t imagine he’ll stay in the Old Orchard” Jenny thought out loud. “He and Mrs. Redstart will probably make their home on the edge of the Green Forest. They seem to like it better over there. There’s Mrs. Redstart now. Just notice that where Zee Zee is bright orange-red she is yellow, and instead of a black head she has a gray head and her back is olive-green with a grayish tinge. She lets Zee Zee do the singing and the showing off and she does the work. I expect she’ll build that nest with almost no help at all from him. Zee Zee is a good father as he’ll do his share in feeding their babies.”

Just then Peter caught sight of a bird all in yellow. He was about the same size as Zee Zee and was flitting about among the bushes along the old stone wall. “There’s Sunshine!” cried Peter, and without even bidding Jenny Wren farewell, he scampered over to where he could see the one he called Sunshine flitting about from bush to bush.

Yellow Warbler by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

“Oh, Sunshine!” he cried, as he came within speaking distance, “I’m ever so glad to see you back. I do hope you and Mrs. Sunshine are going to make your home somewhere near here where I can see you every day.”

“Hello, Peter! I am just as glad to see you as you are to see me,” cried Sunshine the Yellow Warbler. “Yes, indeed, we certainly intend to stay here if we can find just the right place for our nest. It is lovely to be back here again. We’ve journeyed so far that we don’t want to go a bit farther if we can help it. Have you seen Sally the Cowbird around here this spring?”

Peter nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I have.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” declared Sunshine. “She made us a lot of trouble last year. We fooled her though.”

“How did you fool her?” asked Peter.

Sunshine paused to pick a tiny worm from a leaf. “Well,” he said, “she found our nest just after we had finished it and before Mrs. Sunshine had had a chance to lay an egg. Of course you know what she did.”

“I can guess,” replied Peter. “She laid one of her own eggs in your nest.”

Sunshine stopped to pick two or three more worms from the leaves. “Yes,” he said. “She did just that. And it didn’t do her a bit of good. That egg never hatched. We fooled her and that’s what we’ll do again if she repeats that trick this year.”

“What did you do, throw that egg out?” asked Peter.

“No,” replied Sunshine. “Our nest was too deep for us to get that egg out. We just made a second bottom in our nest right over that egg and built the sides of the nest a little higher. Then we took good care that she didn’t have a chance to lay another egg in there.”

“Then you had a regular two story nest, didn’t you?” Peter exclaimed, opening his eyes very wide.

Sunshine nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, “and it was a mighty fine nest, if I do say it. If there’s anything Mrs. Sunshine and I pride ourselves on it is our nest. Our babies have a soft cozy home.”

“What do you make your nest of?” asked Peter.

Tall meadow grasses available as bird nesting materials.

“Fine grasses and soft fibers from plants, some hair when we can find it, and a few feathers. And we always use a lot of that nice soft fern cotton. There is nothing softer that I know of.”

All the time Peter had been admiring Sunshine and thinking how wonderfully well he was named. At first glance he seemed to be all yellow, as if somehow he had managed to catch and hold the sunshine in his feathers. There wasn’t a white feather on him. When he came very close Peter could see that on his breast and underneath were little streaks of reddish brown and his wings and tail were a little blackish. Otherwise he was all yellow.

Presently he was joined by Mrs. Sunshine. She was not as bright yellow as was Sunshine, having an olive-green tint on her back. Underneath she was almost clear yellow without the reddish-brown streaks. She too was glad to see Peter although she couldn’t stop to chat, for already, as she informed Sunshine, she had found just the place for their nest. Of course Peter begged to be told where it was.

The two little folks in yellow snapped their bright eyes at him and told him that that was their secret and they didn’t propose to tell a living soul.

Perhaps if Peter had not been so curious and eager to get acquainted with other members of the Warbler family he would have stayed and done a little spying. As it was, he promised himself to come back to look for that nest after it had been built; then he scurried back among the trees of the Old Orchard to look for other friends among the busy little Warblers who were making the Old Orchard such a lively place that morning.

“There’s one thing about it,” cried Peter. “Any one can tell Zee Zee the Redstart by his black and flame colored suit. There is no other like it. And anyone can tell Sunshine the Yellow Warbler because there isn’t anybody else who seems to be all yellow. My, what a lively, lovely lot these Warblers are!”

P.L.A.Y. in Place Projects

Try these activities to extend your bird story adventures:

  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Amercan Restart
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS –  Yellow Warbler
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – A fascinating story of a Yellow Warbler tracked from Columbia, South America to NY, USA (here).
  • Visit the Cornell Lab of Ornithology – ALL ABOUT BIRDS – A map and explanation of when Yellow Warblers migrate back to your area (here).
  • Another option is to get a copy of Fifty Favorite Birds Coloring Book by Lisa Bonforte and some colored pencils to complete the drawing of a Yellow Warbler (p46).

  • Also a copy of Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book by Paul E. Kennedy with an American Redstart on page 32.

FYI -These coloring books are an excellent companion for this bird story series.

Source: Burgess Bird Book for Children by Thornton Burgess

P.L.A.Y. has provided a new online version of all 45 chapters of this updated and annotated 100+ year old public domain classic to:

  • be suitable for the 21st century family by having the Thornton Burgess woodland characters evolve to model mindfulness and loving kindness
  • highlight and bring awareness to the New England nature settings and offer an opportunity to learn more about birds and other woodland animals through this story adventure
  • create story extension moments through P.L.A.Y. suggested activities and investigations for making new nature connections generated by the reader’s own curiosity
  • encourage families to keep their own nature notebooks for drawing, writing, painting, and recording their own local daily outdoor P.L.A.Y. adventures.

P.L.A.Y. Time – Pass it on! ❤