''THE STRANGE THINGS BIRDS BO.'' 257 



tainly indicate curiosity. Isn't the remark appropriate ? for 

 before you hear him talk you must go into the forest, his own 

 castle, and he has a right to inquire, " Who, who, who are 

 you ? " 



There are the low-spirited goatsuckers, with their " ivhip- 

 poor-will" and ^' chuck-wiWs-widoivJ^ They remind us of people 

 who take pleasure in going to funerals ; all their news is dole- 

 ful, but they tell it at length and over and over again. In some 

 parts of the South the chuck-will' s-widow is called the " chip- 

 the-red-oak-white-oak " bird, which is certainly a more cheerful 

 if not a more sensible remark. All of you can think of other 

 birds that go about telling their own names. Chick-a-clee-dee ! 

 Phoebe! Pee-e-wee! Chebec ! you cannot help imitating the 

 sagacious, businesslike tone of the first ; the rather impatient 

 call of the second, as of a mother calling out of a window 

 to a truant child ; the discouraged, hot weather drawl of 

 the wood pewee ; and the sharp snappy click of the least 

 flycatcher as he jerks out " chebec ! chebec ! " like a tart 

 but bright-eyed girl who intends to bang the door together if 

 you ask her another question. There is so much individuality 

 about all these birds that have given themselves their own 

 names. 



There is, too, our white-throated sparrow, who, in the North, 

 gets all sorts of names from his song. He is called the Pea- 

 body bird, the Asa Peabody bird, or the Old Sam Peabody 

 bird, and on Prince Edward Island the Kennedy bird, from 

 the syllables he speaks so plainly. High up or low down the 

 scale he sings his "a" syllable, then drops or rises to the "see/' 

 and sings off in a succession of ringing triplets his " Peabody, 

 Peabody, Peabody, Peabody.'' He sings in the evening or early 

 morning ; but if he is heard later than nine o'clock, rain is com- 

 ing in a few hours. Unfortunately he is silent until he gets 



