“Mercy, how many sparrows are there?” asked Jean. But not waiting to be answered she continued enthusiastically, “Oh, I had the best look, Miss Haynes! They are the cunnin’est! I saw just a sparrowy back, something like the English sparrows, and the top of the head was a sort of reddish brown. Then right in the middle of the breast there was a cute little spot. It wasn’t streaked, like the song sparrow.”
“Very good, Jean. Remember particularly the one spot. Not all of the sparrows are so easily identified. You asked me how many there are,—probably you will identify a dozen species around here, during the migration, and there are more.”
“I’ll never get them,” declared Bess.
“One at a time,” suggested Miss Haynes, with a smile. “Nature lessons are much like other lessons, except that there is such a thrill to them that you are more likely to remember them.”
“Did you hear a sweet little song, different from that of the song sparrow, Jean?”
Jean and Molly had noticed it.
“It was from one of the tree sparrows,” explained Miss Haynes.
“Did you see him do it?” asked Leigh.
“No; I just know the song,” Miss Haynes returned.