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Updated: May 19, 2025
Another bids you "Work-away, work-work-work-away." A third cries, mournfully, "Willy-come-go, willy-willy-willy-come-go." And high up in the country a fourth tells you to "Whip-poor-will, whip-whip- whip-poor-will." You will never persuade the negro to destroy these birds or get the Indian to let fly his arrow at them. They are birds of omen and reverential dread.
Now broke forth from the shores the notes of an innumerable variety of insects, which filled the air with a strange but not inharmonious concert; while ever and anon was heard the melancholy plaint of the whip-poor-will, who, perched on some lone tree, wearied the ear of night with his incessant moanings.
I hear the woodpecker, and night and early morning the shuttle of the whip-poor-will noons, the gurgle of thrush delicious, and meo-o-ow of the cat-bird. Many I cannot name; but I do not very particularly seek information. I repeat it don't want to know too exactly, or the reasons why. My own notes have been written off-hand in the latitude of middle New Jersey.
Just as quiet! Lie so quietly. The whip-poor-will is going to tell his mate he loves her, loves her so dearly. He is going to tell her, when you listen. That's a dear girl. Now he is beginning.
It doesn't make any difference whether you believe in them or not, they are there. And I guess Whip-poor-will finds them just as useful as you find yours, and a little more so. I know this much, that if I had to catch all my food in the air I'd want whiskers and lots of them so that the insects would get tangled in them. I suppose that's what Whip-poor-will's are for."
Here is one who in common delivers words too big for a humble mouth to hold, so much beside himself, that his voice is as shrill as the whistle of the whip-poor-will! Courage! what is it, man? what is it?" "A prodigy! a lusus naturae! a monster, that nature has delighted to form, in order to exhibit her power!
Laddie often makes them." "My life!" cried the Princess. "Was that he doing those bird cries? Why, I hunted, and hunted, and so did father. We'd never seen a whip-poor-will. Just fancy us!" "If you'd only looked at Laddie," I said. "My patience!" cried the Princess. "Looked at him! There was no place to look without seeing him. And that ear-splitting thing will ring in my head forever, I know."
"As hungry as a sparrow," said Uncle Robert, smiling. While they were eating, the twilight came on. "Listen!" whispered Frank, as a queer, clucking sound was heard among the bushes. Then came the cry: "Whip-poor-will! whip-poor-will!" "I wish I could see a whip-poor-will," said Donald. "They never let me get near enough to them to see how they look." "Let's try this one," said Frank.
It is very solemn, Lady Mary, to be in the woods by night, and to hear no sound but the cry of the great wood-owl, or the voice of the whip-poor-will, calling to his fellow from the tamarack swamp; or, may be, the timid bleating of a fawn that has lost its mother, or the howl of a wolf."
A dozen fears came into Jerry's mind, and at the end of another five minutes he decided that it was time to take some measure to learn the whereabouts of Slim. Softly, but with great carrying force, he gave the well-known "Whip-poor-will."
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