The Burgess Bird Book for Children

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This etext was produced by Eve Sobol.

THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN

Thornton W. Burgess

TO THE CHILDREN AND THE BIRDS
OF AMERICA THAT THE BONDS OF LOVE AND
FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THEM MAY BE
STRENGTHENED
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED

PREFACE

This book was written to supply a definite need. Its preparation
was undertaken at the urgent request of booksellers and others
who have felt the lack of a satisfactory medium of introduction
to bird life for little children. As such, and in no sense
whatever as a competitor with the many excellent books on this
subject, but rather to supplement these, this volume has been
written.

Its primary purpose is to interest the little child in, and to
make him acquainted with, those feathered friends he is most
likely to see. Because there is no method of approach to the
child mind equal to the story, this method of conveying
information has been adopted. So far as I am aware the book is
unique in this respect. In its preparation an earnest effort has
been made to present as far as possible the important facts
regarding the appearance, habits and characteristics of our
feathered neighbors. It is intended to be at once a story book
and an authoritative handbook. While it is intended for little
children, it is hoped that children of larger growth may find in
it much of both interest and helpfulness.

Mr. Louis Agassiz Fuertes, artist and naturalist, has marvelously
supplemented such value as may be in the text by his wonderful
drawings in full color. They were made especially for this volume
and are so accurate, so true to life, that study of them will
enable any one to identify the species shown. I am greatly
indebted to Mr. Fuertes for his cooperation in the endeavor to
make this book of real assistance to the beginner in the study of
our native birds.

It is offered to the reader without apologies of any sort. It was
written as a labor of love--love for little children and love for
the birds. If as a result of it even a few children are led to a
keener interest in and better understanding of our feathered
friends, its purpose will have been accomplished.

THORNTON W. BURGESS

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I JENNY WREN ARRIVES
Introducing the House Wren.

II THE OLD ORCHARD BULLY
The English or House Sparrow.

III JENNY HAS A GOOD WORD FOR SOME SPARROWS
The Song, White-throated and Fox Sparrows.

IV CHIPPY, SWEETVOICE AND DOTTY
The Chipping, Vesper and Tree Sparrows.

V PETER LEARNS SOMETHING HE HADN'T GUESSED
The Bluebird and the Robin.

VI AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW HOME
The Phoebe and the Least Flycatcher.

VII THE WATCHMAN OF THE OLD ORCHARD
The Kingbird and the Great Crested Flycatcher.

VIII OLD CLOTHES AND OLD HOUSES
The Wood Peewee and Some Nesting Places.

IX LONGBILL AND TEETER
The Woodcock and the Spotted Sandpiper.

X REDWING AND YELLOW WING
The Red-winged Blackbird and the Golden-winged Flicker.

XI DRUMMERS AND CARPENTERS
The Downy, Hairy and Red-headed Woodpeckers.

XII SOME UNLIKE RELATIVES
The Cowbird and the Baltimore Oriole.

XIII MORE OF THE BLACKBIRD FAMILY
The Orchard Oriole and the Bobolink.

XIV BOB WHITE AND CAROL THE MEADOW LARK
The So-called Quail and the Meadow Lark.

XV A SWALLOW AND ONE WHO ISN'T
The Tree Swallow and the Chimney Swift.

XVI A ROBBER IN THE OLD ORCHARD
The Purple Martin and the Barn Swallow.

XVII MORE ROBBERS
The Crow and the Blue Jay.

XVIII SOME HOMES IN THE GREEN FOREST
The Crow, the Oven Bird and the Red-tailed Hawk.

XIX A MAKER OF THUNDER AND A FRIEND IN BLACK
The Ruffed Grouse and the Crow Blackbird.

XX A FISHERMAN ROBBED
The Osprey and the Bald-headed Eagle.

XXI A FISHING PARTY
The Great Blue Heron and the Kingfisher.

XXII SOME FEATHERED DIGGERS
The Bank Swallow, the Kingfisher and the Sparrow Hawk.

XXIII SOME BIG MOUTHS
The Nighthawk, the Whip-poor-will and Chuck-wills-
widow.

XXIV THE WARBLERS ARRIVE
The Redstart and the Yellow Warbler.

XXV THREE COUSINS QUITE UNLIKE
The Black and White Warbler, the Maryland Yellow-Throat
and the Yellow-breasted Chat.

XXVI PETER GETS A LAME NECK
The Parula, Myrtle and Magnolia Warblers.

XXVII A NEW FRIEND AND AN OLD ONE
The Cardinal and the Catbird.

XXVIII PETER SEES ROSEBREAST AND FINDS REDCOAT
The Rose-breasted Grosbeak and the Scarlet Tanager.

XXIX THE CONSTANT SINGERS
The Red-eyed, Warbling and Yellow-throated Vireos.

XXX JENNY WREN'S COUSINS
The Brown Thrasher and the Mockingbird.

XXXI VOICE OF THE DUSK
The Wood, Hermit and Wilson's Thrushes.

XXXII PETER SAVES A FRIEND AND LEARNS SOMETHING
The Towhee and the Indigo Bunting.

XXXIII A ROYAL DRESSER AND A LATE NESTER
The Purple Linnet and the Goldfinch.

XXXIV MOURNER THE DOVE AND CUCKOO
The Mourning Dove and the Yellow-billed Cuckoo.

XXXV A BUTCHER AND A HUMMER
The Shrike and the Ruby-throated Hummingbird.

XXXVI A STRANGER AND A DANDY
The English Starling and the Cedar Waxwing.

XXXVII FAREWELLS AND WELCOMES
The Chickadee.

XXXVIII HONKER AND DIPPY ARRIVE
The Canada Goose and the Loon.

XXXIX PETER DISCOVERS TWO OLD FRIENDS
The White-breasted Nuthatch and the Brown Creeper.

XL SOME MERRY SEED-EATERS
The Tree Sparrow and the Junco.

XLI MORE FRIENDS COME WITH THE SNOW
The Snow Bunting and the Horned Lark.

XLII PETER LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT SPOOKY
The Screech Owl.

XLIII QUEER FEET AND A QUEERER BILL
The Ruffed Grouse and the Crossbills.

XLIV MORE FOLKS IN RED
The Pine Grosbeak and the Redpoll.

XLV PETER SEES TWO TERRIBLE FEATHERED HUNTERS
The Goshawk and the Great Horned Owl.

THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN

CHAPTER I Jenny Wren Arrives.

Lipperty-lipperty-lip scampered Peter Rabbit behind the
tumble-down stone wall along one side of the Old Orchard. It was
early in the morning, very early in the morning. In fact, jolly,
bright Mr. Sun had hardly begun his daily climb up in the blue,
blue sky. It was nothing unusual for Peter to see jolly Mr. Sun
get up in the morning. It would be more unusual for Peter not to
see him, for you know Peter is a great hand to stay out all night
and not go back to the dear Old Briar-patch, where his home is,
until the hour when most folks are just getting out of bed.

Peter had been out all night this time, but he wasn't sleepy, not
the least teeny, weeny bit. You see, sweet Mistress Spring had
arrived, and there was so much happening on every side, and Peter
was so afraid he would miss something, that he wouldn't have
slept at all if he could have helped it. Peter had come over to
the Old Orchard so early this morning to see if there had been
any new arrivals the day before.

"Birds are funny creatures," said Peter, as he hopped over a low
place in the old stone wall and was fairly in the Old Orchard.

"Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!" cried a rather sharp scolding voice.
"Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut! You don't know what you are talking
about, Peter Rabbit. They are not funny creatures at all. They
are the most sensible folks in all the wide world."

Peter cut a long hop short right in the middle, to sit up with
shining eyes. "Oh, Jenny Wren, I'm so glad to see you! When did
you arrive?" he cried.

"Mr. Wren and I have just arrived, and thank goodness we are here
at last," replied Jenny Wren, fussing about, as only she can, in
a branch above Peter. "I never was more thankful in my life to
see a place than I am right this minute to see the Old Orchard
once more. It seems ages and ages since we left it."

"Well, if you are so fond of it what did you leave it for?"
demanded Peter. "It is just as I said before--you birds are funny
creatures. You never stay put; at least a lot of you don't.
Sammy Jay and Tommy Tit the Chickadee and Drummer the Woodpecker
and a few others have a little sense; they don't go off on long,
foolish journeys. But the rest of you--"

"Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!" interrupted Jenny Wren. "You don't
know what you are talking about, and no one sounds so silly as
one who tries to talk about something he knows nothing about."

Peter chuckled. "That tongue of yours is just as sharp as ever,"
said he. "But just the same it is good to hear it. We certainly
would miss it. I was beginning to be a little worried for fear
something might have happened to you so that you wouldn't be back
here this summer. You know me well enough, Jenny Wren, to know
that you can't hurt me with your tongue, sharp as it is, so you
may as well save your breath to tell me a few things I want to know.
Now if you are as fond of the Old Orchard as you pretend to be,
why did you ever leave it?"

Jenny Wren's bright eyes snapped. "Why do you eat?" she asked
tartly.

"Because I'm hungry," replied Peter promptly.

"What would you eat if there were nothing to eat?" snapped Jenny.

"That's a silly question," retorted Peter.

"No more silly than asking me why I leave the Old Orchard,"
replied Jenny. "Do give us birds credit for a little common
sense, Peter. We can't live without eating any more than you can,
and in winter there is no food at all here for most of us, so we
go where there is food. Those who are lucky enough to eat the
kinds of food that can be found here in winter stay here. They
are lucky. That's what they are--lucky. Still--" Jenny Wren
paused.

"Still what?" prompted Peter.

"I wonder sometimes if you folks who are at home all the time
know just what a blessed place home is," replied Jenny. "It is
only six months since we went south, but I said it seems ages,
and it does. The best part of going away is coming home. I don't
care if that does sound rather mixed; it is true just the same.
It isn't home down there in the sunny South, even if we do spend
as much time there as we do here. THIS is home, and there's no
place like it! What's that, Mr. Wren? I haven't seen all the
Great World? Perhaps I haven't, but I've seen enough of it, let
me tell you that! Anyone who travels a thousand miles twice a
year as we do has a right to express an opinion, especially if
they have used their eyes as I have mine. There is no place like
home, and you needn't try to tease me by pretending that there
is. My dear, I know you; you are just as tickled to be back here
as I am."

"He sings as if he were," said Peter, for all the time Mr. Wren
was singing with all his might.

Jenny Wren looked over at Mr. Wren fondly. "Isn't he a dear to
sing to me like that? And isn't it a perfectly beautiful spring
song?" said she. Then, without waiting for Peter to reply, her
tongue rattled on. "I do wish he would be careful. Sometimes I am
afraid he will overdo. Just look at him now! He is singing so
hard that he is shaking all over. He always is that way. There is
one thing true about us Wrens, and this is that when we do things
we do them with all our might. When we work we work with all our
might. When Mr. Wren sings he sings with all his might."

"And, when you scold you scold with all your might," interrupted
Peter mischievously.

Jenny Wren opened her mouth for a sharp reply, but laughed
instead. "I suppose I do scold a good deal," said she, "but if I
didn't goodness knows who wouldn't impose on us. I can't bear to
be imposed on."

"Did you have a pleasant journey up from the sunny South?" asked
Peter.

"Fairly pleasant," replied Jenny. "We took it rather easily, Some
birds hurry right through without stopping, but I should think
they would be tired to death when they arrive. We rest whenever
we are tired, and just follow along behind Mistress Spring,
keeping far enough behind so that if she has to turn back we will
not get caught by Jack Frost. It gives us time to get our new
suits on the way. You know everybody expects you to have new
things when you return home. How do you like my new suit, Peter?"
Jenny bobbed and twisted and turned to show it off. It was plain
to see that she was very proud of it.

"Very much," replied Peter. "I am very fond of brown. Brown and
gray are my favorite colors." You know Peter's own coat is brown
and gray.

"That is one of the most sensible things I have heard you say,"
chattered Jenny Wren. The more I see of bright colors the better
I like brown. It always is in good taste. It goes well with
almost everything. It is neat and it is useful. If there is need
of getting out of sight in a hurry you can do it if you wear
brown. But if you wear bright colors it isn't so easy. I never
envy anybody who happens to have brighter clothes than mine. I've
seen dreadful things happen all because of wearing bright
colors."

"What?" demanded Peter.

"I'd rather not talk about them," declared Jenny in a very
emphatic way. "'Way down where we spent the winter some of the
feathered folks who live there all the year round wear the
brightest and most beautiful suits I've ever seen. They are
simply gorgeous. But I've noticed that in times of danger these
are the folks dreadful things happen to. You see they simply
can't get out of sight. For my part I would far rather be simply
and neatly dressed and feel safe than to wear wonderful clothes
and never know a minute's peace. Why, there are some families I
know of which, because of their beautiful suits, have been so
hunted by men that hardly any are left. But gracious, Peter
Rabbit, I can't sit here all day talking to you! I must find out
who else has arrived in the Old Orchard and must look my old
house over to see if it is fit to live in."

CHAPTER II The Old Orchard Bully.

Peter Rabbit's eyes twinkled when Jenny Wren said that she must
look her old house over to see if it was fit to live in. "I can
save you that trouble," said he.

"What do you mean?" Jenny's voice was very sharp.

"Only that our old house is already occupied," replied Peter.
"Bully the English Sparrow has been living in it for the last two
months. In fact, he already has a good-sized family there."

"What?" screamed Jenny and Mr. Wren together. Then without even
saying good-by to Peter, they flew in a great rage to see if he
had told them the truth. Presently he heard them scolding as fast
as their tongues could go, and this is very fast indeed.

"Much good that will do them," chuckled Peter. "They will have to
find a new house this year. All the sharp tongues in the world
couldn't budge Bully the English sparrow. My, my, my, my, just
hear that racket! I think I'll go over and see what is going on."

So Peter hopped to a place where he could get a good view of
Jenny Wren's old home and still not be too far from the safety of
the old stone wall. Jenny Wren's old home had been in a hole in
one of the old apple-trees. Looking over to it, Peter could see
Mrs. Bully sitting in the little round doorway and quite filling
it. She was shrieking excitedly. Hopping and flitting from twig
to twig close by were Jenny and Mr. Wren, their tails pointing
almost straight up to the sky, and scolding as fast as they could
make their tongues go. Flying savagely at one and then at the
other, and almost drowning their voices with his own harsh cries,
was Bully himself. He was perhaps one fourth larger than Mr.
Wren, although he looked half again as big. But for the fact that
his new spring suit was very dirty, due to his fondness for
taking dust baths and the fact that he cares nothing about his
personal appearance and takes no care of himself, he would have
been a fairly good-looking fellow. His back was more or less of
an ashy color with black and chestnut stripes. His wings were
brown with a white bar on each. His throat and breast were black,
and below that he was of a dirty white. The sides of his throat
were white and the back of his neck chestnut.

By ruffling up his feathers and raising his wings slightly as he
hopped about, he managed to make himself appear much bigger than
he really was. He looked like a regular little fighting savage.
The noise had brought all the other birds in the Old Orchard to
see what was going on, and every one of them was screaming and
urging Jenny and Mr. Wren to stand up for their rights. Not one
of them had a good word for Bully and his wife. It certainly was
a disgraceful neighborhood squabble.

Bully the English Sparrow is a born fighter. He never is happier
than when he is in the midst of a fight or a fuss of some kind.
The fact that all his neighbors were against him didn't bother
Bully in the least.

Jenny and Mr. Wren are no cowards, but the two together were no
match for Bully. In fact, Bully did not hesitate to fly fiercely
at any of the onlookers who came near enough, not even when they
were twice his own size. They could have driven him from the Old
Orchard had they set out to, but just by his boldness and
appearance he made them afraid to try.

All the time Mrs. Bully sat in the little round doorway,
encouraging him. She knew that as long as she sat there it would
be impossible for either Jenny or Mr. Wren to get in. Truth to
tell, she was enjoying it all, for she is as quarrelsome and as
fond of fighting as is Bully himself.

"You're a sneak! You're a robber! That's my house, and the sooner
you get out of it the better!" shrieked Jenny Wren, jerking her
tail with every word as she hopped about just out of reach of
Bully.

"It may have been your house once, but it is mine now, you little
snip-of-nothing!" cried Bully, rushing at her like a little fury.
"Just try to put us out if you dare! You didn't make this house
in the first place, and you deserted it when you went south last
fall. It's mine now, and there isn't anybody in the Old Orchard
who can put me out."

Peter Rabbit nodded. "He's right there," muttered Peter. "I don't
like him and never will, but it is true that he has a perfect
right to that house. People who go off and leave things for half
a year shouldn't expect to find them just as they left them. My,
my, my what a dreadful noise! Why don't they all get together and
drive Bully and Mrs. Bully out of the Old Orchard? If they don't
I'm afraid he will drive them out. No one likes to live with such
quarrelsome neighbors. They don't belong over in this country,
anyway, and we would be a lot better off if they were not here.
But I must say I do have to admire their spunk."

All the time Bully was darting savagely at this one and that one
and having a thoroughly good time, which is more than could be
said of any one else, except Mrs. Bully.

"I'll teach you folks to know that I am in the Old Orchard to
stay!" shrieked Bully. "If you don't like it, why don't you
fight? I am not afraid of any of you or all of you together."
This was boasting, plain boasting, but it was effective. He
actually made the other birds believe it. Not one of them dared
stand up to him and fight. They were content to call him a bully
and all the bad names they could think of, but that did nothing
to help Jenny and Mr. Wren recover their house. Calling another
bad names never hurts him. Brave deeds and not brave words are
what count.

How long that disgraceful squabble in the Old Orchard would have
lasted had it not been for something which happened, no one
knows. Right in the midst of it some one discovered Black Pussy,
the cat who lives in Farmer Brown's house, stealing up through
the Old Orchard, her tail twitching and her yellow eyes glaring
eagerly. She had heard that dreadful racket and suspected that in
the midst of such excitement she might have a chance to catch one
of the feathered folks. You can always trust Black Pussy to be on
hand at a time like that.

No sooner was she discovered than everything else was forgotten.
With Bully in the lead, and Jenny and Mr. Wren close behind him,
all the birds turned their attention to Black Pussy. She was the
enemy of all, and they straightway forgot their own quarrel. Only
Mrs. Bully remained where she was, in the little round doorway of
her house. She intended to take no chances, but she added her
voice to the general racket. How those birds did shriek and
scream! They darted down almost into the face of Black Pussy, and
none went nearer than Bully the English Sparrow and Jenny Wren.

Now Black Pussy hates to be the center of so much attention. She
knew that, now she had been discovered, there wasn't a chance in
the world for her to catch one of those Old Orchard folks. So,
with tail still twitching angrily, she turned and, with such
dignity as she could, left the Old Orchard. Clear to the edge of
it the birds followed, shrieking, screaming, calling her bad
names, and threatening to do all sorts of dreadful things to her,
quite as if they really could.

When finally she disappeared towards Farmer Brown's barn, those
angry voices changed. It was such a funny change that Peter
Rabbit laughed right out. Instead of anger there was triumph in
every note as everybody returned to attend to his own affairs.
Jenny and Mr. Wren seemed to have forgotten all about Bully and
his wife in their old house. They flew to another part of the Old
Orchard, there to talk it all over and rest and get their breath.
Peter Rabbit waited to see if they would not come over near
enough to him for a little more gossip. But they didn't, and
finally Peter started for his home in the dear Old Briar-patch.
All the way there he chuckled as he thought of the spunky way in
which Jenny and Mr. Wren had stood up for their rights.

CHAPTER III Jenny Has a Good Word for Some Sparrows.

The morning after the fight between Jenny and Mr. Wren and Bully
the English Sparrow found Peter Rabbit in the Old Orchard again.
He was so curious to know what Jenny Wren would do for a house
that nothing but some very great danger could have kept him away
from there. Truth to tell, Peter was afraid that not being able
to have their old house, Jenny and Mr. Wren would decide to leave
the Old Orchard altogether. So it was with a great deal of relief
that as he hopped over a low place in the old stone wall he heard
Mr. Wren singing with all his might.

The song was coming from quite the other side of the Old Orchard
from where Bully and Mrs. Bully had set up housekeeping. Peter
hurried over. He found Mr. Wren right away, but at first saw
nothing of Jenny. He was just about to ask after her when he
caught sight of her with a tiny stick in her bill. She snapped
her sharp little eyes at him, but for once her tongue was still.
You see, she couldn't talk and carry that stick at the same time.
Peter watched her and saw her disappear in a little hole in a big
branch of one of the old apple-trees. Hardly had she popped in
than she popped out again. This time her mouth was free, and so
was her tongue.

"You'd better stop singing and help me," she said to Mr. Wren
sharply. Mr. Wren obediently stopped singing and began to hunt
for a tiny little twig such as Jenny had taken into that hole.

"Well!" exclaimed Peter. "It didn't take you long to find a new
house, did it?"

"Certainly not," snapped Jenny "We can't afford to sit around
wasting time like some folk I know."

Peter grinned and looked a little foolish, but he didn't resent
it. You see he was quite used to that sort of thing. "Aren't you
afraid that Bully will try to drive you out of that house?" he
ventured.

Jenny Wren's sharp little eyes snapped more than ever. "I'd like
to see him try!" said she. "That doorway's too small for him to
get more than his head in. And if he tries putting his head in
while I'm inside, I'll peck his eyes out! She said this so
fiercely that Peter laughed right out.

"I really believe you would," said he.

"I certainly would," she retorted. "Now I can't stop to talk to
you, Peter Rabbit, because I'm too busy. Mr. Wren, you ought to
know that that stick is too big." Jenny snatched it out of Mr.
Wren's mouth and dropped it on the ground, while Mr. Wren meekly
went to hunt for another. Jenny joined him, and as Peter watched
them he understood why Jenny is so often spoken of as a feathered
busybody.

For some time Peter Rabbit watched Jenny and Mr. Wren carry
sticks and straws into that little hole until it seemed to him
they were trying to fill the whole inside of the tree. Just
watching them made Peter positively tired. Mr. Wren would stop
every now and then to sing, but Jenny didn't waste a minute. In
spite of that she managed to talk just the same.

"I suppose Little Friend the Song Sparrow got here some time
ago," said she.

Peter nodded. "Yes," said he. "I saw him only a day or two ago
over by the Laughing Brook, and although he wouldn't say so, I'm
sure that he has a nest and eggs already."

Jenny Wren jerked her tail and nodded her head vigorously. "I
suppose so," said she. "He doesn't have to make as long a journey
as we do, so he gets here sooner. Did you ever in your life see
such a difference as there is between Little Friend and his
cousin, Bully? Everybody loves Little Friend."

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