A Doorstep Singer 



one of them, at least, that was far more 

 neighborly. He would come and sit on the 

 stone step at the back of the house, and sing 

 there pretty much all night. Occasionally, 

 one of the family would get up and try to 

 drive him away, but in a few minutes he 

 would be back again, "whipping" as loudly 

 as ever. Mother used to call him "our 

 doorstep singer." It was rather disturb- 

 ing, at first, his notes were so loud and pene- 

 trating; but we got used to our little mu- 

 sician after a while, and slept through his 

 concerts quite unconcernedly. Since then 

 I have heard of a good many instances of 

 whip-poor-wills coming to sing on the door- 

 steps of farmhouses. The broad stone step 

 so often found before the doors of country 

 houses seems to be a favorite concert-plat- 

 form with this mysterious bird. And how 

 his loud, whiplike note does ring through 

 the house on a summer night, when he sets 

 up his song ! 



I often used to creep to the window in 

 the hallway outside my chamber, on moon- 

 light nights, and look down at the little 

 singer on the doorstep. He seemed like a 

 mere patch of shadow, as he hugged the 



