only for a day or two, being bound farther north to make their
summer homes.

Apparently, Jenny Wren did not look upon them altogether with favor.
Perhaps Jenny was a little bit envious, for compared with the bright
colors of some of them Jenny was a very homely small person indeed.
Then, too, there were so many of them and they were so busy catching all
kinds of small insects that it may be Jenny was a little fearful they
would not leave enough for her to get her own meals easily.

"I don't see what they have to stop here for," scolded Jenny. "They
could just as well go somewhere else where they would not be taking the
food out of the mouths of honest folk who are here to stay all summer.
Did you ever in your life see such uneasy people? They don't keep still
an instant. It positively makes me tired just to watch them."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle, for Jenny Wren herself is a very
restless and uneasy person. As for Peter, he was thoroughly enjoying
this visit of the Warblers, despite the fact that he was having no end
of trouble trying to tell who was who. Suddenly one darted down and
snapped up a fly almost under Peter's very nose and was back up in a
tree before Peter could get his breath. "It's Zee Zee the Redstart!"
cried Peter joyously. "I would know Zee Zee anywhere. Do you know who he
reminds me of, Jenny Wren?"

"Who?" demanded Jenny.

"Goldy the Oriole," replied Peter promptly. "Only of course he's ever
and ever so much smaller. He's all black and orange-red and white
something as Goldy is, only there isn't quite so much orange on him."

For just an instant Zee Zee sat still with his tail spread. His head,
throat and back were black and there was a black band across the end of
his tail and a black stripe down the middle of it. The rest was bright
orange-red. On each wing was a band of orange-red and his sides were the
same color. Underneath he was white tinged more or less with orange.

It was only for an instant that Zee Zee sat still; then he was in the
air, darting, diving, whirling, going through all sorts of antics as he
caught tiny insects too small for Peter to see. Peter began to wonder
how he kept still long enough to sleep at night. And his voice was quite
as busy as his wings. "Zee, zee, zee, zee!" he would cry. But this was
only one of many notes. At times he would sing a beautiful little song
and then again it would seem as if he were trying to imitate other
members of the Warbler fam