rightly
called it a love call. "Why, I've often heard that in the spring and
didn't know it was your voice at all," cried Peter. "You say Phoebe
plainer than does the bird who is named Phoebe, and it is ever so much
softer and sweeter. I guess that is because you whistle it."
"I guess you guess right," replied Tommy Tit. "Now I can't stop to talk
any longer. These trees need my attention. I want Farmer Brown's boy to
feel that I have earned that suet I am sure he will put out for me as
soon as the snow and ice come. I'm not the least bit afraid of Farmer
Brown's boy. I had just as soon take food from his hand as from anywhere
else. He knows I like chopped-up nut-meats, and last winter I used
to feed from his hand every day." Peter's eyes opened very wide with
surprise. "Do you mean to say," said he, "that you and Farmer Brown's
boy are such friends that you dare sit on his hand?"
Tommy Tit nodded his little black-capped head vigorously. "Certainly,"
said he. "Why not? What's the good of having friends if you can't trust
them? The more you trust them the better friends they'll be."
"Just the same, I don't see how you dare to do it," Peter replied. "I
know Farmer Brown's boy is the friend of all the little people, and I'm
not much afraid of him myself, but just the same I wouldn't dare go near
enough for him to touch me."
"Pooh!" retorted Tommy Tit. "That's no way of showing true friendship.
You've no idea, Peter, what a comfortable feeling it is to know that
you can trust a friend, and I feel that Farmer Brown's boy is one of the
best friends I've got. I wish more boys and girls were like him."
CHAPTER XXXVIII. Honker and Dippy Arrive.
The leaves of the trees turned yellow and red and brown and then began
to drop, a few at first, then more and more every day until all but the
spruce-trees and the pine-trees and the hemlock-trees and the fir-trees
and the cedar-trees were bare. By this time most of Peter's feathered
friends of the summer had departed, and there were days when Peter had
oh, such a lonely feeling. The fur of his coat was growing thicker. The
grass of the Green Meadows had turned brown. All these things were signs
which Peter knew well. He knew that rough Brother North Wind and Jack
Frost were on their way down from the Far North.
Peter had few friends to visit now. Johnny Chuck had gone to sleep for
the winter 'way down in his little bedroom under ground. Grandfather
Frog had also gone to
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