So the killdeer is another bird that is named after his song! How easy it would be to know birds if all were named after their song, like the chickadees and the killdeers and the flickers, or after their colors, like the bluebirds, or after their actions, like the woodpeckers!
The boy’s father had found a killdeer’s nest in a potato field when he was plowing. We went to see that, too. It was in a patch of ground overgrown with weeds because the man had kindly plowed around it. Mother Killdeer sat dutifully on the nest while Father Killdeer guarded the premises and told us by his various shrieks and somersaults that he wished we would not go near enough to disturb her.
On the farm that day I saw the golden-throated meadowlark. He is another yodeler. His favorite tune is:
His songs ring so clear and flute-like that I can hear him away over at our place. He is a brown bob-tailed bird. Over a beautiful yellow front he has a black band, pointing down in the middle, V-shaped. A large company of these birds were in the meadow, happy as larks; so they are well named meadowlarks.
But think of a dear little bird and such a sweet singer as the song sparrow, bearing the same name as the odious English sparrow! It seems unjust, and in this the boy agreed with me. We got to talking about the song sparrow because one was on a fence post near by, singing over and over this lively ditty:
“Twee twee twee^/^twe-e^\twe-e\_\_jeje^je^je^jeje_jeje^je jay.”
[Illustration: THE BLUEBIRDS IN THEIR PRIMITIVE HOME]
The bluebirds’ home that the boy had mentioned at the beginning of my visit was in a hole of an apple tree. By standing on tiptoe I could look in and see four light-blue eggs lying on a nest of grasses that looked like a cunning little basket. It was a hot day, too hot for Mother Bluebird to stay in that hollow tree all the time. She was out playing tag with Mr. Bluebird. Perhaps she thought the hot air would keep her eggs warm. After she went in again he visited her often with food. Before going after more he usually perched on a little knob just above the entrance and sang. Sometimes she came out on the ledge to listen. It was a winsome sight to see the bluebirds in their primitive home.