OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 155 
“Tt seems to me the Whippoorwill is a good deal 
like a hermit,” said Laura, “he is so retiring in his 
habits, and likes to dwell in solitude. He even seeks 
his food at night, and skulks among the dead leaves 
in daytime.” 
““T have often looked for him,” said “‘ Artist,” “but 
he is not easily found on account of resting lengthwise 
on the limb which hides him from observers below.” 
“Why do people have a superstitious feeling of 
dread on hearing the notes of the Whippoorwill ?” 
asked “‘Querist.” 
‘He shares, with all other nightbirds, the reputa- 
tion of being a bird of ill-omen,” replied Miss Sweet. 
“This is not so much the fault of the birds as it is of 
the strange phases of the human mind. The morning 
hopefulness and strength accord with the singing birds 
of dawn, but night’s weariness and disappointment 
weigh us down until every sound is a sound of woe. 
The notes of the Quail and the Whippoorwill are al- 
most the same, yet the Quail is considered a cheerful 
fellow.” 
“We always think of him as associated with the 
first hours of darkness,” said “Student,” “ but, in looking 
for poetry concerning him, I found one entitled: 
