File:True bird stories from my note-books (1903) (14563649030).jpg

Identifier: truebirdstories00mill (find matches)
Title: True bird stories from my note-books
Year: 1903 (1900s)
Authors: Miller, (Harriet (Mann), Mrs.) 1831- (from old catalog)
Subjects: Birds
Publisher: Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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r-will! Whip-poor-will ! Because it was too late to see to read, I usedto sit on the steps and listen, and think it theloneliest bird song I ever heard, but I never sawthe singer. Though, as I have said, it was inthe edge of a city, with houses all around, socommon were birds about us then that no onethought of disturbing him. It being also be-fore the days when every boy thinks he musthave a collection, no one tried to find thenest, though there were three boys in the housewith me, and several more next door. One evening after the whip-poor-will had sungfor some weeks, I was surprised to hear a drollbaby voice trying to imitate his notes. On listening, I found that the elder was teach-ing the youngster — actually giving him a musiclesson. First the perfect song rang out loudand clear, and the weak quavering voice triedto copy it. Then the singer repeated the strain,and the infant tried again. So it went on nightafter night till the little one could sing almostas well as his father.
Text Appearing After Image:
Willi POOR-WILL MY FIRST BIRD 113 That was my first bit of bird study, thoughI could never see the singer, did not even knowhow he looked, and had nobody to tell me whereto find out; besides being always so absorbed inbooks, which I loved almost more than anythingin the world, that I did* not try much. But Inever forgot the baby whip-poor-wills music les-sons, and have always counted him the first birdI ever knew. The reason I failed to see the whip-poor-will,though I stole down to the arbor so softly, wasbecause he could see in the dark so much bet-ter than I could; and when he saw me coming,he slipped off his perch and flew away so silentlywith his soft plumage that I did not hear him.And the reason I could never find the nest wasbecause the mother bird, the eggs, and the littleones were so nearly the color of the groundwhere they lay that I might almost have steppedon them without seeing them. The whip-poor-will is about the length of arobin, but much stouter. His dress is gray and

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