One was named Pan, because he piped sweetly among
the reeds by the river. One, who came out of his eggshell before his
brothers, was named Peter, for his father.

But Mother Piper never called her children Sandy and Pan and Peter. She
called them all "Pete." She was so used to calling her mate "Pete," that
that name was easier than any other for her to say.

The three of them played by the river all day long. Each amused himself
in his own way and did not bother his brothers, although they did not
stray too far apart to talk to one another. This they did by saying,
"Peep," now and then.

About once an hour, and sometimes oftener, Mother Piper came flying over
from Faraway Island, crying, "Pete, Pete, Pete," as if she were worried.
It is no wonder that she was anxious about Sandy and Peter and Pan, for,
to begin with, she had had four fine children, and the very first night
they were out of their nest, the darlings, a terrible prowling animal
named Tom or Tabby had killed one of her babies.

[Illustration: _One was named Peter, for his father._]

But Peter and Pan and Sandy were too young to know much about being
afraid. So they played by the river all day long, care-free and happy.
Their sweet little voices sounded contented as they said, "Peep," one
to another. Their queer little tails looked frisky as they went
bob-bob-bob-bing up and down every time they stepped, and sometimes when
they didn't. Their dear little heads went forward and back in a merry
sort of jerk. There were so many things to do, and every one of them a
pleasure!

Oh! here was Sandy clambering up the rocky bank, so steep that there was
roothold only for the blue-bells, with stems so slender that one name
for them is "hair-bell." But Sandy did not fall. He tripped lightly up
and about, with sure feet; and where the walking was too hard, he
fluttered his wings and flew to an easier place. Once he reached the top
of the bank, where the wild roses were blossoming. And wherever he went,
and wherever he came, he found good tasty insects to eat; so he had
picnic-luncheons all along the way.

Ho! here was Pan wandering where the river lapped the rocky shore. His
long slender legs were just right for wading, and his toes felt
comfortable in the cool water. There was a pleasing scent from the
sweet-gale bushes, which grew almost near enough to the river to go
wading, too; and there was a spicy smell when he brushed against the
mint, which wore its blos