"De sugar-cane hits pushin' in de bottoms, De rice hits a-sproutin' now fo' sh.o.r.e!

De cotton hits a-greenin' in de furrer, An' honey I'se a-waitin' at de door!

"Did I tole you dat I know'd whar dere's a possum?

Did I tole you dat I know'd whar dere's a c.o.o.n?

Oh, mah lady, come out soon!

Oh, mah honey, come out soon!

While de Mocker, while de Mocker Am a-singin' to de moon!"

Suddenly mammy jumped up, and waving the children off, started for the house as fast as she could trot, muttering to herself.

"What _is_ the matter?" called Olive; "has a bee stung you?"

"No, nope chile, but t'inkin' 'bout dem times I done forgit I lef' a big pan o' buns a-risin' foh yoh lunch. Like's not dey's rised till dey's bust an' popped over!" And mammy disappeared amid a chorus of laughter.

"What mammy has said about the Mockingbird in his summer home is true.

As a visitor who sometimes stays and builds, he strays east and north as far as Ma.s.sachusetts, and westward to Colorado and California. If he were not a hardy bird who sometimes raises three broods a year, I'm afraid the race would come to an end, because so many nestlings are taken each year and sold for cage birds."

The Mockingbird

Length about ten inches.

Upper parts gray, but dusky-brownish on the wings, which have a large white spot. Three white feathers on each side of the tail, which is blackish. The males, who sing, have more white on the wings and tail than the females, who are songless.

Under parts whitish.

Sings his own true song, a rapid, sweet melody, heard best after twilight; but has many comic songs of whatever nonsense comes into his head.

A Citizen of the southern United States, often straying northward to New England.

A Ground Gleaner, Tree Trapper, and Seed Sower.

THE CATBIRD

When the Doctor said "Catbird" the children began to imitate the various calls this famous garden bird utters, for by this time they were familiar with all his tricks and manners. Some of the imitations were very good indeed, if not musical. "Miou! Zeay! Zeay!"

"That is all very well in its way," said the Doctor, "but which one of you can imitate his song?"

"I've often tried," said Rap, "but somehow he always gets ahead of me, and I lose the place."

"Listen! There is one singing now in the grape arbor, and he has a nest somewhere in the syringa bushes," said Olive.

The Catbird was not alarmed when he saw that five pairs of eyes were turned upon him. He seemed to know that the secret of his nest was in safe keeping, flew out to the pointed top of a clothes-pole, and continued his song, jerking his tail up and down and showing the rusty feathers beneath, as if this motion had something to do with the force of his music. "I can hear the words as plain as anything," said Nat; "if I only understood his language!"

"That is the difficulty," said the Doctor; "if some kind bird would write a dictionary for us we should soon learn a great many strange things."

"Roger, the gardener, says that Catbirds are bad things and if he had his way he would shoot them. He says they bite the strawberries and grapes and things, even when he is looking at them," said Dodo.

"There is some truth in what Roger says," replied the Doctor, "but on the other hand, the Catbird, besides being a merry garden neighbor and musician, which in itself is enough to pay his rent, belongs as a citizen to the Tree Trappers and Ground Gleaners, and is also a great sower of wild fruits. Though he does provoke us at times by taking a bite from the largest berries in the bed, yet he really prefers wild fruits if he can find them. So it is better for us to protect our grape arbors and strawberry beds with nets and bits of bright tin strung on twine to frighten him away from them, than to lose him as a friend and insect destroyer.

"Surely his song is worth a few handfuls of cherries. Then he is such a quick-witted, sympathetic bird, always willing to help his neighbors when they have trouble with Crows or squirrels. And when half a dozen pairs of Catbirds choose the garden for their home, you may be sure that they will furnish fun as well as music."

"Why does he jerk his tail so?" asked Dodo.

"It is a trick that all the family have," said the Doctor, "from which some of them are supposed to have taken the name of Thrasher, but that is doubtful. The Mockingbird thrashes about in his cage; the Brown Thrasher on the ground under the bushes; the House Wren does the same, and the tiny Winter Wren gives his tail a jerk instead, for it is not long enough to really thrash."

"There is a bright-brown bird beating with his tail, down under the quince bushes now," said Dodo. "Is that some kind of a cousin?"

"It's a Song Thrush," said Rap.

"Or rather what the Wise Men call a Brown Thrasher," said the Doctor; "the very bird of which I was speaking."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Catbird.]

"Who are the Wise Men?" asked Rap.

"A society of House People who study American birds and decide by what name it is best to call each species, so that each may be known everywhere by the same name. This Brown Thrasher is sometimes called Song Thrush, Brown Thrush, Brown Mockingbird, and Mavis--though the first and the last of these four names belong only to a kind of European Thrush that is never found in this country. You see how confusing this is, and how much better it is for the Wise Men, who know him intimately, to give him one name you can be sure is right."

The Catbird.

Length between eight and nine inches.

Upper parts slate color.

Crown, bill, feet, and tail black.

Under parts lighter grayish-slate color, except a chestnut-red patch under the tail.

A Summer Citizen of the United States.

A Ground Gleaner, Tree Trapper, and Seed Sower.

THE BROWN THRASHER

"As I told you a moment ago, this handsome clean-built bird with keen eyes, curved bill, and long graceful tail that opens and shuts like a fan, has several names besides that of Brown Thrasher, which seems the most suitable for him."

"He looks redder than brown, for we called the Wood Thrush 'brown,'"

said Nat.

"Yes, his back is a much brighter brown than that of any Thrush, and this will show you the need in studying birds of being able to distinguish between several shades of the same color. There are words to represent these different grades of color, such as 'rufous' for reddish-brown and 'fuscous' for dusky-brown; these you must learn later on, for some of them are pretty hard ones. Now it is better for you to use words whose meaning is perfectly familiar to you.

"The brown of this Thrasher, you see, is brighter than that of the Wood Thrush; it is a ruddy brown, with a faint bra.s.sy glint, something like a polished doork.n.o.b, particularly when the sun strikes his back."

"How he scratches round upon the ground," said Dodo; "just like a hen.

Why doesn't he belong to the Birds that Scratch?"