CHAPTER XXIII.. Going to Bed and Getting Up.

GOING TO BED AND GETTING UP.

As we told you before, birds do not live in houses or sleep in bedrooms; though in some parts of the country they build their cradles in little bird-houses and boxes or anything of the sort which you will give them. But here we have never succeeded in making any of them occupy a place which we have prepared for them, though we have made the prettiest little houses, and nailed boxes in cosey places. The western race of the house wren nests with us; so also does the bluebird. But these birds have not become civilized and prefer to stay in the mountains and far-off places.

Birds never call to one another to "Be sure to leave the window up for fresh air," and they do not try to get more than their share of the blankets, as some children do. Each bird carries his bedding about on his back, like a tramp, and he takes the first warm, sheltered nook he can find for his bed. Some birds appear to go to the same place to sleep every night. We suppose they feel more at home in one spot, if they have not been molested there. When we find a particular spot where we know the birds are in the habit of sleeping or roosting, we are careful not to disturb the bush or tree.

Some birds sleep with their heads all covered up with the bed-clothes, as if they were afraid, like foolish children. Perhaps they like a warm night-cap, though we do not see how they need one with such a thick head of hair as they have. We call it "tucking their heads under their wings."

It is a queer fashion to stand or squat on one foot all night, instead of lying down like other people. We suppose they use one foot at a time, so that the other may be rested. You have noticed that anybody who must stand for a long while usually favors one limb or foot, holding it up a little at the knee joint, and after a time changing to the other. Try it yourself and see.

One very odd position in which some birds sleep is upright on the bark of a tree trunk, clinging to the wood with their toes, and propping themselves up with their strong, pointed tail-tips, as the flickers and some of their friends do.

Going-to-bed-time and getting-up-time are happy hours with the birds. About sundown you will hear them saying, "Just one more twitter," "One more worm, if you please," or, "One more flight to the highest tree."

While you are watching them in the soft twilight, there is a sudden hush and not a bird is in sight. If you have not been paying close attention, with your eyes wide open, it will be impossible for you to tell what has become of the birds, they go to bed so quickly and silently. Not a sound will break the stillness, unless a merry mocking-bird wakes you out of your sleep.

These mocking-birds sing to us all night long at some parts of the year. You know these birds came by their name because they deserve it. They mock or mimic every bird they hear, including the hens and turkeys. We have wondered why they do not talk as well, but we have never known them to.

One mocker in our yard gives us the postman's whistle every afternoon an hour before it is due. Strangers rush to their gates, thinking their mail has come, while the mocker laughs at them from the tip-top branch of a eucalyptus tree, seventy or eighty feet above them.

If you have just come to California, you are likely to be waked up in the middle of the night by the sound of your pet chickens peeping, or the turkeys crying as if in distress, and you imagine all the fowls in the coops are being carried off.

Perhaps you will snatch a broom or an apron and run out quickly, sure of finding the marauder. From the top of his tree, safe out of your reach, that little rascal of a mocker will "peep" again, and then you will understand that it is only one of his jokes. Often they sing beautiful songs by the hour, and we lie awake to hear, laughing at the racket, or holding our breath to catch the last note of some wonderful melody.

Besides the mocking-bird you may hear the owl, though you cannot be quite sure that it is not the mocker again. In the dusk, when it is just light enough to see a little, you may catch a glimpse of the "Poor Will," darting about for his supper among the belated gnats and flies.

When this bird came to California he left off saying "Whip Poor Will," and so has but two notes. "Poor Will" is not whipped in this beautiful land.

Phaenoptilus nuttalli californicus.

One will have to get up very early to see the fun among the birds in the morning. A chirp in the twilight, the breakfast bell ringing from the throat of the first bird up, and then how astir are the trees and the bushes, and the whole yard or field! It is impossible for you to tell where the little songsters came from so suddenly, just as it was impossible for you to tell where they went to sleep the night before.

If there is a tub of water by the pump, the rim of it will soon be covered by the birds; or, better still, if there is a leaky hydrant, or a spring in the berry patch, or a puddle in the orchard, there you will see what is sure to make you laugh.

The swishing and the diving and the twittering and the dressing of the birds, and the flying particles of water like a shower bath, are enough to make you glad that there are birds alive.

Let lazy people lie in bed on a bright morning. They will never know what fun they miss, even though they may read about it. It is better to see a fine thing for yourself than to depend upon what other people have to say about it.

By the time ordinary people are up, the birds will have settled down to the business of the day. Their dresses and coats are brushed, and their hats and bonnets are on "straight."

The drip, drip, of the hydrant, or the babble of the brook do not tell what they saw an hour ago. The old sun, looking down steadily in your face, never hints at sights that made him smile so out of the corner of his eye when he first got up at call of the birds.

It is a very odd thing that the birds have to wake the sun every morning in California. Look about you early and see how it is where you live.

"Get up, old Sun! get up, old Sun!" they all scream at once, and they keep right on making as much noise as they can, until the lazy old fellow is fairly out of bed. Tell your friends, if they do not believe this, that they and old Sol himself had better take to getting up earlier in the morning.

That is a queer old proverb, "Early birds get the worms." You have all heard it, and it tells the truth.

Did you ever see the ground all covered with tiny little mounds of fresh earth in the morning when it is damp? Angle-worms do not like the sunshine; they will die if exposed to it. So they come up to the surface of the ground in the night, while we and the sun are asleep, just to get a bit of fresh air and to look around the world. If they do not hurry back to their home in the ground, they will get surprised by the "early birds," who help themselves to all the worms they want.

That is a good proverb for the birds and the worms, but it has another meaning for us all. "Early birds get the worms" means "If you want to see pretty things, and hear fine music, and have a good time, you must get up early in the morning." So if you would see all the bird-fun in your yard, you must be up and out as soon as there is the least bit of light, or you will be too late.