ground. Of course I prefer Mr. Wren's song, but I must admit that
Little Friend has one of the happiest songs of any one I know.
Then, too, he is so modest, just like us Wrens."

Peter turned his head aside to hide a smile, for if there is
anybody who delights in being both seen and heard it is Jenny
Wren, while Little Friend the Song Sparrow is shy and retiring,
content to make all the world glad with his song, but preferring
to keep out of sight as much as possible.

Jenny chattered on as she hunted for some more material for her
nest. "I suppose you've noticed, said she, "that he and his wife
dress very much alike. They don't go in for bright colors any
more than we Wrens do. They show good taste. I like the little
brown caps they wear, and the way their breasts and sides are
streaked with brown. Then, too, they are such useful folks. It is
a pity that that nuisance of a Bully doesn't learn something from
them. I suppose they stay rather later than we do in the fall."

"Yes," replied Peter. "They don't go until Jack Frost makes them.
I don't know of any one that we miss more than we do them."

"Speaking of the sparrow family, did you see anything of
Whitethroat?" asked Jenny Wren, as she rested for a moment in the
doorway of her new house and looked down at Peter Rabbit.

Peter's face brightened. "I should say I did!" he exclaimed. "He
stopped for a few days on his way north. I only wish he would
stay here all the time. But he seems to think there is no place
like the Great Woods of the North. I could listen all day to his