The Burgess Bird Book for Children

t is no wonder if for some time Peter Rabbit failed to miss that of one of his very good friends. Most unexpectedly he was re

an Bully the English Sparrow. Above, his coat was of a dull olive-brown, while underneath he was of a grayish-white, with faint tinges of yellow in places. His head was dark, and his bill black. The feathers on his head were lifted just enough to make the

fter Winsome Bluebird got here." Peter started to say that he had wondered what had become of Dear Me, but checked himself, f

air, and Peter heard a sharp click of that little black bill. Ma

h a fly then?

ging tail. Peter almost wondered if in some way Dear Me's tongue and tail were connected. "I suppose," said he,

ore Peter heard the click of that little black bill, then Dear Me wa

e," replied Dear Me. "We've made our h

is face. He didn't see anything of Mrs. Phoebe and he didn't see any place in which he co

"I didn't suppose you and Mrs. Phoebe ever built a nest on th

t I've known you so long that I'm going to let you into a little secret.

lieve it!"

d it that he really didn't mean that. "

gave up and at Mr. Phoebe's suggestion crept down the bank to the very edge of the Laughing Brook. Dear Me darted out to catch another fly, then flew right in under the bridge and alighted on a little ledge of stone ju

in stalk. "How did you ever come to think of such a place? And why did you leave the sh

e many insects flying around where there is water, so it is an easy matter to get plenty to eat. I left the shed at Farmer Brown's because that pesky cat up there discovered our

at as usual you were the fir

ar down into the Tropics, but we manage to pick up a pretty good living without going as far as that. So we get back here before the rest of them, and usually have beg

I'm on my way to the Old Orchard now, and I certainly shall keep my

Dear me!" replied Mr. Phoebe as Pe

nd him. He was sitting out on the up of one of the upper branches of an apple-tree where he could watch for flies and other winged insects. He looked so much like Mr. Phoebe, save that he was smaller, that any one would have know they wer

d to see you back again. Are you going

ppose I ought to be helping her, but I learned a long time ago, Peter Rabbit, that in matters of this kind it is just as well not to have any opinion at all. When Mrs. Chebec has picked out just the pl

d Mrs. Phoebe, and they already

ly that can stand cold weather. What pleasure they get out of it I don't understand.

d Peter, for it had suddenly struck him th

just as many bugs and flies as any of them." Suiting action to the word, he darted out into the air. His little bill snapped and with a quick turn he was back on his former perch, je

cuse me, Peter," said Chebec, "I must go at once. Mrs. Chebec says she has found just the place fo

y Welcome Robin and your cousins

rootlets, strips of soft bark, fibers of plants, the brown cotton that grows on ferns, and perhaps a little hair when we can find it. We make a dainty nest, if I do say it, an