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"Who are you?" demanded Peter very bluntly and impolitely. "I'm Piny the Pine Grosbeak," replied the stranger, seemingly not at all put out by Peter's bluntness. "Oh," said Peter. "Are you related to Rosebreast the Grosbeak who nested last summer in the Old Orchard?" "I certainly am," replied Piny. "He is my very own cousin.
"For goodness' sake, Peter Rabbit, you don't mean to say you don't know whose voice that is," she cried. "That's Rosebreast. He and Mrs. Rosebreast have been here for quite a little while. I didn't suppose there was any one who didn't know those sharp, squeaky voices. They rather get on my nerves.
"I was just laughing, at the thought of how funny you would look with a pair of long ears like mine. Now you speak of it, Jenny, that song IS quite different from Welcome Robin's." "Of course it is," retorted Jenny. "That is Rosebreast singing up there, and there he is right in the top of that tree. Isn't he handsome?" Peter looked up to see a bird a little smaller than Welcome Robin.
She was dressed chiefly in brown and grayish colors with a little buff here and there and with dark streaks on her breast. Over each eye was a whitish line. Altogether she looked more as if she might be a big member of the Sparrow family than the wife of handsome Rosebreast. While Rosebreast sang, Mrs. Grosbeak was very busily picking buds and blossoms from the tree.
I've never seen him because he never ventures up where I live and I don't go down where he spends the winter, but all members of the Grosbeak family are cousins." "Rosebreast is very lovely and I'm very fond of him," said Peter. "We are very good friends." "Then I know we are going to be good friends," replied Piny.
Meanwhile Mrs. Tanager was flying about in the tree tops near at hand and calling anxiously. She was dressed almost wholly in light olive-green and greenish-yellow. She looked no more like beautiful Redcoat than did Mrs. Grosbeak like Rosebreast. "Can't you fly up just a little way so as to get off the ground?" she cried anxiously. "Isn't it dreadful, Peter Rabbit, to have such an accident?
"The Grosbeak, of course, stupid," sputtered Jenny. "If you don't know Rosebreast the Grosbeak, Peter Rabbit, you certainly must have been blind and deaf ever since you were born. Listen to that! Just listen to that song!" Peter listened. There were many songs, for it was a very beautiful morning and all the singers of the Old Orchard were pouring out the joy that was within them.
His head, throat and back were black. His wings were black with patches of white on them. But it was his breast that made Peter catch his breath with a little gasp of admiration, for that breast was a beautiful rose-red. The rest of him underneath was white. It was Rosebreast the Grosbeak. "Isn't he lovely!" cried Peter, and added in the next breath, "Who is that with him?" "Mrs.
I suppose you know that Rosebreast the Grosbeak and Glory the Cardinal are members of my family." "I didn't know it," replied Peter, "but if you say it is so I suppose it must be so. It is easier to believe than it is to believe that you are related to the Sparrows." "Nevertheless I am," retorted Chewink. "What were you scratching for when I first saw you?" asked Peter.
What anybody wants to squeak like that for when they can sing as Rosebreast can, is more than I can understand." At that very instant Mr. Wren began to scold as only he and Jenny can. Peter looked up at Jenny and winked slyly. "And what anybody wants to scold like that for when they can sing as Mr. Wren can, is too much for me," retorted Peter. "But you haven't told me who Rosebreast is."
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