preacher-bird

There is only the rustle of the leaves, the drowsy hum of insects, and the interrupted discourse of the preacher-bird in the clump of trees near which stood the first home of

Washington's Birthday Robert Haven Schauffler 1921

The Elder looked at her a moment and said slowly, "'Preacher-bird, preacher-bird,' what kind of a bird is that, young lady?"

When Life Was Young At the Old Farm in Maine 1887

In a large maple, down the lane, a preacher-bird sang every day in June and until into August, generally loudest and most continuously, from eleven till two o'clock.

When Life Was Young At the Old Farm in Maine 1887