It looked
as if in one side of that bunch of moss was a little round hole. Peter
blinked and looked very hard indeed to make sure. A minute later there
was no doubt at all, for a little feathered head was poked out and a
second later a dainty mite of a bird flew out and alighted very close to
Peter. It was one of the smaller members of the Warbler family.

"Sprite!" cried Peter joyously. "I missed you when your cousins passed
through here, and I thought you had gone to the Far North with the rest
of them."

"Well, I haven't, and what's more I'm not going to go on to the Far
North. I'm going to stay right here," declared Sprite the Parula
Warbler, for that is who it was.

As Peter looked at Sprite he couldn't help thinking that there wasn't
a daintier member in the whole Warbler family. His coat was of a soft
bluish color with a yellowish patch in the very center of his back.
Across each wing were two bars of white. His throat was yellow. Just
beneath it was a little band of bluish-black. His breast was yellow and
his sides were grayish and brownish-chestnut.

"Sprite, you're just beautiful," declared Peter in frank admiration.
"What was the reason I didn't see you up in the Old Orchard with your
cousins?"

"Because I wasn't there," was Sprite's prompt reply as he flitted about,
quite unable to sit still a minute. "I wasn't there because I like the
Green Forest better, so I came straight here."

"What were you doing just now in that bunch of moss?" demanded Peter, a
sudden suspicion of the truth hopping into his head.

"Just looking it over," replied Sprite, trying to look innocent.

At that very instant Peter looked up just in time to see a tail
disappearing in the little round hole in the side of the bunch of moss.
He knew that that tail belonged to Mrs. Sprite, and just that glimpse
told him all he wanted to know.

"You've got a nest in there!" Peter exclaimed excitedly. "There's no use
denying it, Sprite; you've got a nest in there! What a perfectly lovely
place for a nest."

Sprite saw at once that it would be quite useless to try to deceive
Peter. "Yes," said he, "Mrs. Sprite and I have a nest in there. We've
just finished it. I think myself it is rather nice. We always build in
moss like this. All we have to do is to find a nice thick bunch and then
weave it together at the bottom and line the inside with fine grasses.
It looks so much like all the rest of the bunches of moss that it is
seldom any on