“When you search for them look in the air, or on the shed-top, or about the haystack, or on the ground; for they seldom perch in trees.”

“Why is that?” asked Rap.  “I should think it would be warmer for them in the thick evergreens.”

“They nest on the ground, and as they also gather their food there, are unused to large trees.”

“Why don’t they nest in trees up North?” asked Nat.

“For the same reason,” laughed Olive, “that Simple Simon didn’t catch a whale in the water pail!  There are no trees where the Snowflake nests!”

The Snowflake

Length seven inches.

In summer snow-white, with black on the back, wings, and tail.

In winter wears a warm brown cloak, with black stripes, fastened with a brown collar, and a brown and white vest.

A Citizen of the North, travelling southward in snowstorms as far sometimes as Georgia.

A member of the guild of Weed Warriors, eating seeds at all seasons.  THE VESPER SPARROW

(THE GRASS FINCH)

“Please, uncle, before you tell us about this Sparrow, will you look at a sort of a striped, dull-brown bird that has been fidgeting over there under the bushes ever since we have been here?”

[Illustration:  Vesper Sparrow.]

“I have been watching him too,” said Rap; “a minute ago, when he flew over the stone fence, I saw he had white feathers outside on his tail—­now he is back again.”

“How very kind that bird is to come when he is wanted, and save my time—­it is the Vesper Sparrow himself.  I suspect that we are nearer to his nest than he cares to have us, he is so uneasy.”

“Where would the nest most likely be?” asked Nat; “in a tree or a bush?”

“Most Sparrow nests are near the ground,” said Rap.

“A little lower yet, Rap; the Vesper Sparrow sinks his deep nest either in thick grass or in the ground itself; but though it is thus supported on all sides it is as nicely woven as if it were a tree nest.”

“It isn’t a very pretty bird,” said Dodo.  “Does it sing well?  Why is it called the Vesper Sparrow—­what does Vesper mean, Uncle Roy?”

“Vesper means evening.  This plainly clothed little bird has a beautiful voice, and sings in the morning chorus with his brothers; but he is fond of continuing his song late into the twilight, after most others have gone to bed.  Then in the stillness his voice sounds sweet and clear, and the words of the song are:  ’Chewee, chewee, chewee lira, lira, lira lee.’  That is the way he says his evening prayers:  you know that in some of the churches there is a beautiful service called Vespers.  Ah, if we only knew bird language!”

“Do you remember,” said Olive, “last night when you were going to bed you asked me if it wasn’t a very rare bird that was singing so late down in the garden, and I told you that it was a Sparrow?  It was the Vesper Bird, perhaps the very one who is over there in the bushes, wondering if the giant House People will find his nest.  You can easily tell him when he flits in front of you by the roadside, because he always shows two white feathers, one on each side of his tail.”