the Old Orchard. Peter was still thinking of the Sparrow family;
what a big family it was, yet how seldom any of them, excepting
Bully the English Sparrow, were to be found in the Old Orchard.

"Hello, Johnny Chuck!" cried Peter, as he discovered Johnny
sitting on his doorstep. "You've lived in the Old Orchard a long
time, so you ought to be able to tell me something I want to
know. Why is it that none of the Sparrow family excepting that
noisy nuisance, Bully, build in the trees of the Old Orchard? Is
it because Bully has driven all the rest out?"

Johnny Chuck shook his head. "Peter," said he, "whatever is the
matter with your ears? And whatever is the matter with your
eyes?"

"Nothing," replied Peter rather shortly. "They are as good as
yours any day, Johnny Chuck."

Johnny grinned. "Listen!" said Johnny. Peter listened. From a
tree just a little way off came a clear "Chip, chip, chip, chip."
Peter didn't need to be told to look. He knew without looking who
was over there. He knew that voice for that of one of his oldest
and best friends in the Old Orchard, a little fellow with a
red-brown cap, brown back with feathers streaked with black,
brownish wings and tail, a gray waistcoat and black bill, and a
little white line over each eye--altogether as trim a little
gentleman as Peter was acquainted with. It was Chippy, as
everybody calls the Chipping Sparrow, the smallest of the family.

Peter looked a little foolish. "I forgot all about Chippy," said