"It is just two notes," said father. "Aren't they sweet and clear?"
"It is quite near. But I cannot see any one. Are you doing it, father?" asked Polly. "Why, now I can hear three people."
"Look above you, Polly. You will see who is whistling."
Polly looked. There on a limb of a tree was a chick-a-dee. He was singing those two notes. In the next tree another was singing two other notes.
"So you see, Peter, that they do say something besides 'chick-a-dee.' These two notes are their song. The other is just their talk. Perhaps you can learn to whistle those notes.
"Here is the place where our wood has been cut. Let us look at it."
