ossip with the Grosbeaks. Then Peter
bethought him that it was high time for him to return to the dear Old
Briar-patch, and bidding his new friends good-by, he started off through
the Green Forest, lipperty-lipperty-lip. When he reached the edge of
the Green Forest he decided to run over to the weedy field to see if the
Snowflakes and the Tree Sparrows and the Horned Larks were there.
They were, but almost at once Peter discovered that they had company.
Twittering cheerfully as he busily picked seeds out of the top of a weed
which stood above the snow, was a bird very little bigger than Chicoree
the Goldfinch. But when Peter looked at him he just had to rub his eyes.

"Gracious goodness!" he muttered, "it must be something is wrong with my
eyes so that I am seeing red. I've already seen two birds dressed in red
and now there's another. It certainly must be my eyes. There's Dotty
the Tree Sparrow over there; I hear his voice. I wonder if he will look
red."

Peter hopped near enough to get a good look at Dotty and found him
dressed just as he should be. That relieved Peter's mind. His eyes were
quite as they should be. Then he returned to look at the happy little
stranger still busily picking seeds from that weed-top.

The top of his head was bright red. There was no doubt about it. His
back was toward Peter at the time and but for that bright red cap Peter
certainly would have taken him for one of his friends among the Sparrow
family. You see his back was grayish-brown. Peter could think of several
Sparrows with backs very much like it. But when he looked closely he saw
that just above his tail this little stranger wore a pinkish patch, and
that was something no Sparrow of Peter's acquaintance possesses.

Then the lively little stranger turned to face Peter and a pair of
bright eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well," said he, "how do you like
my appearance? Anything wrong with me? I was taught that it is very
impolite to stare at any one. I guess your mother forgot to teach you
manners."

Peter paid no attention to what was said but continued to stare. "My,
how pretty you are!" he exclaimed.

The little stranger WAS pretty. His breast was PINK. Below this he was
white. The middle of his throat was black and his sides were streaked
with reddish-brown. He looked pleased at Peter's exclamation.

"I'm glad you think I'm pretty," said he. "I like pink myself. I like it
very much indeed. I suppose you've already seen my fr