noon
`` Old Ummy , '' the house cat , was much inclined to watch their box and once attempted to climb up to them . Two pairs of peewees built about the premises , one just inside the south barn cellar , the other under a projecting window-sill at the end of the wagon-house . These two pairs , or younger birds reared there , had built in these same places for seven or eight years . Night and morning as we milked , and at noon also , as we sat grinding scythes at the well , those old peewees would alight on posts , or gables , rub their beaks twice on the dry wood and cry , `` Peewee , peewee , peewitic ; pewee , peer-a-zitic ! '' For some not very good reason , I took a boyish dislike to peewees . They are very useful birds , great destroyers of worms , moths and flies , and so far as I know , never do the slightest harm , which can hardly be said of all our feathered favorites . As we hoed potatoes and corn on those green June days , the song of the little gray ground sparrows was constantly in my ears , although the others seemed not to notice it .