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Updated: May 24, 2025
Toad might have hidden, but not a trace of him did they find. "Tra-la-la-lee! Oka-chee! Oka-chee! Happy am I as I can be!" sang Mr. Redwing, as he swayed to and fro among the bulrushes. "Say, Mr. Redwing, have you seen Old Mr. Toad?" called Peter Rabbit. "No," replied Mr. Redwing. "Is that whom you fellows are looking for? I wondered if you had lost something. What do you want with Old Mr. Toad?"
'You fear it will be deviating into truth. There's something in that. Say, then, that the matter is occupying my gravest attention, and that I hope to be able to reply definitely in the course of a few weeks. 'Very well. Where may I sit? But I can't use a quill, dear boy. 'Miss Redwing! 'Oh, I forgot myself. Have you a nice, fine point, not too hard? 'Let me see.
On the southern side of London, at least in the districts I am best acquainted with, there was hardly a fieldfare or redwing to be seen for weeks and even months. Towards spring they came back, flying east for Norway.
You see old Mr. Toad's remarks were very personal, and nobody likes personal remarks when they are unpleasant, especially if they happen to be true. Grandfather Frog was trying his best to think of something sharp to say in reply, when Mr. Redwing, sitting in the top of the big hickory-tree, shouted: "Here comes Farmer Brown's boy!" Grandfather Frog forgot his anger and began to look anxious.
Peter scratched a long ear with a long hind foot, trying to think of some place to go. Just then he heard the clear "peep, peep, peep" of the Hylas, the sweet singers of the Smiling Pool. "That's where I'll go!" exclaimed Peter. "I haven't been to the Smiling Pool for some time. I'll just run over and pay my respects to Grandfather Frog, and to Redwing the Blackbird.
In fact, there wasn't a bright feather on her anywhere. Peter wanted to ask why it was that she was so plainly dressed, but he was too polite and decided to wait until he should see Jenny Wren. She would be sure to know. Instead, he exclaimed, "How do you do, Mrs. Redwing? I'm ever so glad to see you. I was wondering where you were. Where did you come from?" "Straight from my home," replied Mrs.
So long as the crows stayed the redwing was frantic, his cries filled the air; and as they were almost constantly there, he was kept on the borders of frenzy most of the time. After the crows came the bird-students, with opera-glasses and spying ways.
Among the regular visitors are included the white wagtail, the pied flycatcher, the nightjar, the black redstart, the lesser redpole, the snow bunting, the redwing, the reed, marsh, and grasshopper warblers, the siskin, the dotterel, the sanderling, the wryneck, the hobby, the merlin, the bittern, and the shoveller.
Little Joe Otter had been more full of fun than ever, if that were possible. Mr. and Mrs. Redwing had come back to the bulrushes from their winter home way down in the warm Southland. Everybody was happy, just as happy as could be.
Somewhere in that "league upon league of marsh grass," I suppose, were the blackbird's little folk; for the watcher on the bank was in deepest tribulation, and his outcries quickly brought me down to see what had happened. The Young Americans of the redwing family are as vivacious and uneasy as might be expected of the scions of that house.
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