CHAPTER XIV 



BOB WHITE AND CAROL THE MEADOW LARK 



"Bos BOB WHITE! Bob Bob White! 

 Bob Bob White!" clear and sweet, that call 

 floated over to the dear Old Briar-patch until 

 Peter could stand it no longer. He felt that he 

 just had to go over and pay an early morning call 

 on one of his very best friends, who at this season 

 of the year delights in whistling his own name 

 Bob White, j 



"I suppose," muttered Peter, "that Bob White 

 has got a nest. I wish he would show it to me. 

 He's terribly secretive about it. Last year I 

 hunted for his nest until my feet were sore, but it 

 wasn't the least bit of use. Then one morning 

 I met Mrs. Bob White with fifteen babies out for 

 a walk. How she could hide a nest with fifteen 

 eggs in it is more than I can understand." 



Peter left the Old Briar-patch and started off 

 over the Green Meadows towards the Old Pasture. 

 As he drew near the fence between the Green 

 Meadows and the Old Pasture he saw Bob White 

 sitting on one of the posts, whistling with all his 

 might. On another post near him sat another 

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