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Twittering   Listen
noun
Twittering  n.  
1.
The act of one who, or that which, twitters.
2.
A slight nervous excitement or agitation, such as is caused by desire, expectation, or suspense. "A widow, who had a twittering towards a second husband, took a gossiping companion to manage the job."






Collaborative International Dictionary of English 0.48








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"Twittering" Quotes from Famous Books



... some time in advance of the carriage, the servants would know that their master was coming, in time to have the rooms ready for him. And when the gentleman drove up to the door he would generally see his little gold-finch sitting on the finger of a cook or a chamber-maid, and twittering away as if he was endeavoring to inform the good people of all the ...
— Round-about Rambles in Lands of Fact and Fancy • Frank Richard Stockton

... laughed, harshly. "I'll have to wake. The happy chickens, ducks, turkeys, and twittering, chirping birds will rouse me at sun- up. I must teach to-morrow. I must answer questions about grammar, history, geography, and arithmetic. I must correct compositions, write on a blackboard with chalk, point to dots on maps, scold little ones, reprove big ...
— The Desired Woman • Will N. Harben

... be on duty until 2 A. M., and will doubtless hear, if not see, some of the wild life of the forest. The third couple's turn lasts until 4 A. M.; then the last two will be awakened in time to see the sun rise, listen to the twittering and singing of the wild birds, and possibly catch a glimpse of wild deer. With 6 A. M. comes broad daylight, and the ever-to-be-remembered night in the open ...
— On the Trail - An Outdoor Book for Girls • Lina Beard and Adelia Belle Beard

... earnest gaze. Dark as it was she felt, rather than saw, the glow of his deep blue eyes. She could not mistake the tenderness of his tone. She had so believed in him. He seemed so far above the callow, vapid, empty-headed youngsters the other girls were twittering about from morn till night. She felt that she believed in him now, no matter what had been said or who had said it. She felt that if he would but say it was all a mistake—that no woman had crossed his threshold, ...
— An Apache Princess - A Tale of the Indian Frontier • Charles King

... over the little village of Crecy on the morning of Saturday, August 26, 1346. The golden corn was standing in the fields, the cattle were quietly grazing in the meadows, the birds were twittering in the woods, and in the still morning air rose the gentle murmur of a joyous stream. Everything spoke of peace that bright summer morning; little could one have dreamed that before that sun should have set in the west the din and thunder of battle would ...
— Parkhurst Boys - And Other Stories of School Life • Talbot Baines Reed

... day was done. Swinging easily down to the other side of the fence she moved on through the meadow, over another fence, and another meadow, skirting the edge of a cool little strip of woods which lured her with its green mysterious shadows, its whispering leaves, and twittering birds. One wistful glance she gave into the sweet silence, seeing a clump of maiden-hair ferns rippling their feathery locks in the breeze. Then resolutely turning away she sped on to the slope of ...
— Marcia Schuyler • Grace Livingston Hill Lutz

... hell could be so bad. After a short stay he went back again, and I could see that he expected to be killed. Before saying good-by he touched some flowers on the mess-table, and for a moment or two listened to birds twittering ...
— Now It Can Be Told • Philip Gibbs

... to understand their MUTTERSPRACHE; but they, too, make themselves heard from time to time in little incomprehensible antiphonies, about the drift that comes down to them by their rivers from the strange lands higher up the Gasse. Above all, there is here such a twittering of canaries (I can see twelve out of our window), and such continual visitation of grey doves and big-nosed sparrows, as make our little bye-street into a ...
— The Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson - Volume 1 • Robert Louis Stevenson

... guerilla warfare seems always going on amongst these Blue Tits. If one was in the basket and remaining perfectly still, I knew two or three others were meditating a sudden combined assault, but it seemed as if the steady gaze of the titmouse in possession kept them at bay for a time. At length a twittering scrimmage ensued, and the combatants disappeared. I once coaxed a Blue Tit to live in the dining-room for a few days, and he made himself very happy, constantly flitting about in search of insects, running up and down the curtains like a veritable mouse, alighting on any joint of cold meat which ...
— Wild Nature Won By Kindness • Elizabeth Brightwen

... remember that dreary ride—or rather, walk—for two hours, at least, of the distance were done on foot. For awhile I had pleasanter companions than my own sullen thoughts: a pair of blue-birds kept with me, for two or three miles at least, fluttering and twittering along the fences by my side, with the prettiest sociability—sometimes ahead, sometimes behind—never more than a dozen yards off; their brilliant plumage shot through the twilight like jets of sapphire flame: I felt absurdly ...
— Border and Bastille • George A. Lawrence

... still caressing Tartar, who slobbered with exceeding affection. A faint twittering commenced among the trees round. Something fluttered down as light as leaves. They were little birds, which, lighting on the sward at shy distance, ...
— Shirley • Charlotte Bronte

... I thought I heard birds twittering, and sometimes I thought there was something black at my elbow, and in the night-time faces at my window. Paul, was there ...
— Giles Corey, Yeoman - A Play • Mary E. Wilkins Freeman

... out, and swing me in! Trees are bare, but birds begin Twittering to the peeping leaves, On the bough beneath the eaves Wait,—one lilac bud I saw. Icy hillsides feel the thaw; April chased off March to-day; Now I catch a glimpse ...
— Journeys Through Bookland V2 • Charles H. Sylvester

... across her feet. Amongst the trees two or three birds were twittering softly; it was warm, it was dreamy, she was forgetting Marcello. She tried to rouse herself as the thought of him crossed her mind, and she fancied that she almost rose from the chair; but she had hardly lifted one hand. Then she ...
— Whosoever Shall Offend • F. Marion Crawford

... There was no future for any one here; only the shipwrecked sought an abiding refuge within these walls. It was time for Pelle to move on. Yet from all this raggedness and overcrowding rose a voice which one did not hear elsewhere; a careless twittering, like that of unlucky birds that sit and plume their feathers when a little sunlight falls on them. He looked back on the time he had spent here ...
— Pelle the Conqueror, Complete • Martin Andersen Nexo

... and female friends, Mrs. Sheldon did think herself happy. Those occasional complaints were the minor notes in the harmony of her life, and only served to make the harmony complete. She read her novels, and fed a colony of little feeble twittering birds that occupied a big wire cage in the breakfast-parlour. She executed a good deal of fancy-work with beads and Berlin-wool; she dusted and arranged the splendours of the drawing-room with her own hands; and she took occasional walks in ...
— Birds of Prey • M. E. Braddon

... I am the most helpless of men,' The year before, his oration on the American Scholar had filled Carlyle with delight. It was the first clear utterance, after long decades of years, in which he had 'heard nothing but infinite jangling and jabbering, and inarticulate twittering and screeching.' Then Carlyle enjoined on his American friend for rule of life, 'Give no ear to any man's praise or censure; know that that is not it; on the one side is as Heaven, if you have strength to keep silent and climb unseen; ...
— Critical Miscellanies, Vol. 1, Essay 5, Emerson • John Morley

... pointed to half past four o'clock. The hour of silence appeared to be over. The birds commenced twittering; and a cuckoo, in an adjacent wood, sounded his note ...
— The Rosary • Florence L. Barclay

... For, you know, the birds when they say their prayers speak the common language, but when they chat together in private they use a twittering dialect, ...
— Chantecler - Play in Four Acts • Edmond Rostand

... there was no sign of the wanderers. The doctor lit a cigar and watched the shadows creep up the side of the mountains. He listened to the last twittering of the birds and then a silence, profound and deep, settled ...
— The Motor Maids at Sunrise Camp • Katherine Stokes

... is just light enough to distinguish the birds, we may observe, here and there, a single swallow perched on the roof of a barn or shed, repeating two twittering notes incessantly, with a quick turn and a hop at every note he utters. It would seem to be the design of the bird to attract the attention of his mate, and this motion seems to be made to assist her in discovering his position. As soon as the light has tempted him to fly abroad, this twittering ...
— McGuffey's Sixth Eclectic Reader • William Holmes McGuffey

... and wilting bloom; Life's melody of voices drifts away— Mistaken! Was it an owlet in the thorns that moaned? The churchyard moonlight turns ash-gray— Hush! Pale Louise! The dead must not awaken. Something a twittering cry is uttering. Is that a bird there on her breast, Lost in the fragrant gloom, Wakening to morning twilight in the tomb? No bird—it is her folded hands a-fluttering! I think I should have died to see her rise Among the withered wreaths And spider-cluttered palls Of her dead uncles' funerals, ...
— Carolina Chansons - Legends of the Low Country • DuBose Heyward and Hervey Allen

... when on the open prairie, where the dim horizon line and the cold grey sky became one, they could almost have imagined that they were passing over the face of some dead planet whirling in space. Only occasionally, where the country was broken and a few stunted bushes were to be met with, a flock of twittering snow-birds were taking time by the forelock, and rejoicing that the period of dried fruits and short commons ...
— The Rising of the Red Man - A Romance of the Louis Riel Rebellion • John Mackie

... he felt in such good spirits that he sang and whistled as he walked through the wood, and never noticed how the birds were twittering and laughing at him. ...
— The Violet Fairy Book • Various

... I were a tiny browny bird from out the south, Settled among the alder-holts, and twittering by the stream; I would put my tiny tail down, and put up my tiny mouth, And sing my tiny life away ...
— Andromeda and Other Poems • Charles Kingsley

... trees and the rose bushes trembled in the wind among the cross paths. Some birds were twittering above him in an acacia, and the sound of life, disturbing the rustling of the solitary vegetation, shed a certain calm over the painter's spirit, blotted out the childish fear he had felt before he reached there, as he crossed the ...
— Woman Triumphant - (La Maja Desnuda) • Vicente Blasco Ibanez

... our only Monsieur,—Monsieur Boulanger, our landlord. She invariably took her seat beside him, and devoted quirks and quivers exclusively to him, tapping him with her fan, calling him "Mechant! mechant!" "farceur," or "quel diable d'homme!" twittering and carolling in her old broken voice, like a senile canary dreaming of its far-off youth. M. Boulanger was of peasant origin and appearance, gray-bearded and gray-haired, and clumping always in sabots over the stone floors, except in the salon in the ...
— Lippincott's Magazine, November 1885 • Various

... sitting there one evening in the early spring, after the sun had dipped below the line of the high hedge-row, though it was still shining in level rays through it. No sound had disturbed the deep silence for a long time, except the twittering of birds among the branches; for up here even the sea could not be heard when it was calm. I suppose my face was sad, as most human faces are apt to be when the spirit is busy in its citadel, and has left the outworks of the eyes and mouth to themselves. ...
— The Doctor's Dilemma • Hesba Stretton

... into a reclining posture. The tree he had chosen to rest under was a mighty elm, whose broad branches, thick with leaves, formed a deep green canopy through which the sunbeams filtered in flecks and darts of gold. A constant twittering of birds resounded within this dome of foliage, and a thrush whistled melodious phrases from one of the highest boughs. At his feet was spread a carpet of long soft moss, interspersed with wild thyme and groups of delicate harebells, and the rippling ...
— The Treasure of Heaven - A Romance of Riches • Marie Corelli

... future years. But into the dirge of Shimono Kani came voices crying out of the heart strings of the gods, all sighing still for the things that might not be. And the dirge and the voices crying, go drifting away from the Path of Stars, away from the Midst of Things, till they come twittering among the Worlds, like a great host of birds that are lost by night. And every note is a life, and many notes become caught up among the worlds to be entangled with flesh for a little while before they pass again on their journey to the great Anthem that roars ...
— Time and the Gods • Lord Dunsany [Edward J. M. D. Plunkett]

... something in his mind, he could not tell what—could not tell whether it was the last far-off sounds of the river dying away in the distance, or some of the words of the endless song his mother had read to him on the sea-shore. Sometimes he thought it must have been the twittering of the swallows—over the shallows, you, know; but it may have been the chirping of the dingy sparrows picking up their breakfast in the yard—how can I tell? I don't know what I know, I only know what I think; and to tell the truth, I am more for the swallows than ...
— At the Back of the North Wind • George MacDonald

... sometimes a shallow river would cross the road winding off into a valley that was overhung, on one side, by rugged precipices clothed with luxurious heath and wild ash; whilst on the other it was skirted by a long sweep of greensward, skimmed by the twittering swallow, over which lay scattered numbers of sheep, cows, brood mares, and colts—many of them rising and stretching themselves ere they resumed their pasture, leaving the spots on which they lay of a deeper green. Occasionally, too, a sly-looking ...
— The Hedge School; The Midnight Mass; The Donagh • William Carleton

... plane-tree. And there were the young of a sparrow, an infant offspring, on a topmost branch, cowering amongst the foliage, eight in number; but the mother, which had brought forth the young ones, was the ninth. Thereupon he devoured them, twittering piteously, while the mother kept fluttering about, lamenting her dear young; but then, having turned himself about, he seized her by the wing, screaming around. But after he had devoured the young of the sparrow, and herself, the ...
— The Iliad of Homer (1873) • Homer

... found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes—it was a bright, sunny morning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze. "Surely," thought Rip, "I have not slept here all night." He recalled the occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of liquor—the mountain ravine—the wild retreat ...
— Elson Grammer School Literature, Book Four. • William H. Elson and Christine Keck

... day, as he carried the girl who was really a star through the spring lanes, a young man walked beside her, and though our donkey thought very little of his talk—in fact, felt his plain "hee-haw" to be worth all its smart chirping and twittering—yet it evidently pleased the maiden. It included quite a number of vowel-sounds—though, if the maiden had only known, it didn't mean half so much as the donkey's ...
— Prose Fancies (Second Series) • Richard Le Gallienne

... the pyramids; I knew not which. He threw his arms around me, and I felt as if I were dying. I only felt that I was alive again when I found something warm on my breast, and there a little bird was flapping with its wings, twittering and singing. It flew from my breast high up in the dark, heavy space; but a long green string bound it still to me. I heard and I comprehended its tones and its longing: "Freedom! Sunshine! To the father!" Then I thought of my father in my distant home, ...
— The Sand-Hills of Jutland • Hans Christian Andersen

... had no time for worry as he rapidly manipulated the innumerable wheels and handles in accord with the vari-colored lights that flickered on a huge ground-glass map of the sub-Mercurian passages. On the plain outside there was a vast rustling, a many-voiced twittering and squeaking that was not quite bird-like in tone. Through the opened tent-flap one could see the stream of Venusian workers, their work-period ended, pouring out of the shaft-head and filing between the ordered ranks of others whose labors ...
— The Great Dome on Mercury • Arthur Leo Zagat

... time on Irving trotted up and down the side lines, his heart twittering with pride and anxiety. After every scrimmage, after every tackle, he looked apprehensively for a curly light head; he was always glad when he saw it bob up safely out of a pile. Through all the press and conflict, ...
— The Jester of St. Timothy's • Arthur Stanwood Pier

... the Grange by easy stages, following so far as I could little used roads and lanes on account of a modest desire to avoid publicity. 'Twas early morning when I reached the Grange. I remember the birds were twittering a chorus as I rode under the great oaks to the house. Early as it was, Cloe and Aileen were already walking in the garden with their arms entwined about each other's waists in girl fashion. They made a picture taking enough to have satisfied a jaded connoisseur of beauty: the fair tall Highland ...
— A Daughter of Raasay - A Tale of the '45 • William MacLeod Raine

... been a heavy rain yesterday, a nest of chimney-swallows was washed down the chimney into the fireplace of one of the front rooms. My attention was drawn to them by a most obstreperous twittering; and looking behind the fireboard, there were three young birds, clinging with their feet against one of the jambs, looking at me, open-mouthed, and all clamoring together, so as quite to fill the room with the short, eager, frightened sound. The old birds, by certain signs upon the ...
— Passages From The American Notebooks, Volume 1 • Nathaniel Hawthorne

... birthday dawned brightly, heralded in by much twittering of sparrows in the ivy outside his bedroom. These Percy did not hear, for he was sound asleep and had had a late night. The first sound that was able to penetrate his heavy slumber and rouse him to a realization that his birthday had arrived was the ...
— A Damsel in Distress • Pelham Grenville Wodehouse

... beginning to get dark; the twittering of birds retiring upon the roofs and trees of the village, penetrated through the open windows. The last red rays of the setting sun penetrated into the room and fell upon the raised cross and ...
— The Knights of the Cross • Henryk Sienkiewicz

... With twittering exclamations of dismay over the, accident the two women hurried away to minister to the burned legs of Francisco, and Jack rose and flung away his cigarette. His mouth had again the stubborn look which Dade knew so ...
— The Gringos • B. M. Bower

... getting the boat down to the water, and Ellen and her attendants, assisted by Domingos, were packing up, John, Duppo, and I took a ramble into the woods to kill some more game, as we were not likely to have anything but fish for some time to come. As we were going along, I heard the twittering of some dull-plumaged birds in the bushes, and was trying to get a shot at them, when I saw John, who was a little way ahead, jumping about in the most extraordinary manner. Duppo cried out, on seeing him, "Tauoca!" and made a sign to us to run off, himself ...
— On the Banks of the Amazon • W.H.G. Kingston

... of sage, and among his mother's flowers, and where bumble-bees dusted their yellow jackets in the hollyhocks. Swallows also built their nests under the eaves of the house, and made the days pleasant with their merry twittering. ...
— Winning His Way • Charles Carleton Coffin

... twenty years ago. After to-night let me forget it. After to-night, do I say? Hark! the birds are twittering in the dew outside. The pale, early sun-shafts strike over the moors. And I am tired. To-morrow night I will finish this wrestle with my own folly; I will give the coup de grace to my imagination.. But no more now. My brain is not calm, and I will ...
— The Return Of The Soul - 1896 • Robert S. Hichens

... of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from ...
— Select Poems of Thomas Gray • Thomas Gray

... oaks, the dark crests of the elms upraised against the radiant blue of the sky, and felt a thrill like triumph as she watched the great masses of cloud, dazzlingly white, floating in infinite space majestically. The life about her, too—the twittering of birds in the hedgerows; an Alderney cow with its calf in the fields; a young colt careering wildly, startled by a passing train; a big dog that saluted her with friendly nose as he trotted by—all these said something to her which made her feel that, let what might happen, it was ...
— The Beth Book - Being a Study of the Life of Elizabeth Caldwell Maclure, a Woman of Genius • Sarah Grand

... tired of waiting—like some professed friends—for one who was long in dying, ceased its breathless hush. A fresh breeze rustled the motionless leaves, birds withdrew their heads from under their wings, and began the twittering preliminary to their morning songs; and two squirrels, springing from their nest in a hollow tree, like children from a cottage door, scrambled down and over Van Berg's prostrate form in their wild sport, but he was too weak, too far gone in dull, heavy ...
— A Face Illumined • E. P. Roe

... dog. You seek out a spot for yourself on the outskirts of the forest, take a look round, examine your caps, and glance at your companion. A quarter of an hour passes; the sun has set, but it is still light in the forest; the sky is clear and transparent; the birds are chattering and twittering; the young grass shines with the brilliance of emerald.... You wait. Gradually the recesses of the forest grow dark; the blood-red glow of the evening sky creeps slowly on to the roots and the trunks of the trees, and keeps rising higher and higher, ...
— A Sportsman's Sketches - Works of Ivan Turgenev, Vol. I • Ivan Turgenev

... blankets. Then Samson sang songs and told stories or played upon the violin to amuse the family. The violin invariably woke the birds in the tree-tops, and some, probably thrushes or warblers or white throated sparrows, began twittering. Now and then one would express his view of the disturbance with a little phrase of song. Often the player paused to hear these musical whispers "up in the gallery," as he ...
— A Man for the Ages - A Story of the Builders of Democracy • Irving Bacheller

... love the girl he said to himself and she must be mine but I somehow feel I can not propose in London it would not be seemly in the city of London. We must go for a day in the country and when surrounded by the gay twittering of the birds and the smell of the cows I will lay my suit at her feet and he waved his arm wildly at the gay thought. Then he sprang from bed and gave a rat ...
— The Young Visiters or, Mr. Salteena's Plan • Daisy Ashford

... summer landscape, as lovely as a dream, and as lonesome as Sunday. The air was full of the smell of flowers, and the buzzing of insects, and the twittering of birds, and there were no people, no wagons, there was no stir of life, nothing going on. The road was mainly a winding path with hoof-prints in it, and now and then a faint trace of wheels on either side in the grass—wheels that ...
— Innocents abroad • Mark Twain

... of the bay were dancing in the sunshine, a fresh wind stirred the chestnut-trees with a pleasant sound, and the garden below was full of roses, butterflies and bees. A great chirping and twittering went on among the birds, busy with their summer house-keeping, and, far away, the white-winged gulls were dipping and diving in the sea, where ships, like larger birds, went sailing ...
— Eight Cousins • Louisa M. Alcott

... ba-a-ing, The boys ha-ha-ing, The swallows twittering, The girls are tittering, Father is calling, The cook is bawling; I'm nigh crazy ...
— Little Songs • Eliza Lee Follen

... bush pines, heirs of the white birches' heritage, rabbits hopped away; sometimes a cock grouse, running like a rat, fled, crested head erect; twice twittering woodcock whirred upward, beating wings tangled for a moment in the birches, fluttering like great ...
— A Young Man in a Hurry - and Other Short Stories • Robert W. Chambers

... town was a very large and ancient church, called the cathedral. It was a solemn-looking pile of buildings, standing by itself in a green yard, back from the road, and thousands of swallows were twittering and chirping high up among the pinnacles and cornices of the roof. Although it was in the midst of a crowded city, the whole structure wore an expression of great seclusion ...
— Rollo in Scotland • Jacob Abbott

... from a letter to Lady Beaumont, about a year earlier: "Though I am at present sadly below even my par of health, or rather unhealth, and am the more depressed thereby from the consciousness that in this yearly resurrection of Nature from her winter sleep, amid young leaves and blooms and twittering nest-building birds, the sun so gladsome, the breezes with such healing on their wings, all good and lovely things are beneath me, above me, and everywhere around me, and all from God, while my incapability of enjoying, or, at best, languor in receiving ...
— Poems of Coleridge • Coleridge, ed Arthur Symons

... to his own little cottage in Nutter's Lane, which had been put in order for his occupancy. The small grocery closet had been filled with supplies, the fire had been lighted in the diminutive kitchen stove, and the tea-kettle was twittering on top, like a bird on a bough. The Twombly girls, Priscilla and Mehitabel, had set some pansies and lilacs here and there in blue china mugs, and decorated with greenery the faded daguerreotype of old Nehemiah Dutton, which hung like a slowly ...
— The Queen of Sheba & My Cousin the Colonel • Thomas Bailey Aldrich

... my boy," he remembered the old patrician twittering, "there's always someone to pull your chestnuts out of the fire for you—for a price. Pay it. Then add a plus to the payment and the man's yours to use ...
— Zero Data • Charles Saphro

... his eye took fondly from the gathering dusk pictures which the artist's mind cherishes—the long roadway, with the maples and pines, the stump fences; behind which lay the garnered fields, where the plough had made ready the way for the Fall wheat; the robins twittering in the scattered trees; the cooing of the wood-pigeon; over all, the sky in its perfect purpling blue, and far down the horizon the evening-star slowly climbing. He noted the lizards slipping through the stones; he saw where the wheel of a wagon had crushed some wild ...
— The Judgment House • Gilbert Parker

... she cried, twittering, "he's going to teach me to drive. He's coming to lunch to-morrow, and then we're going along the Morlaas road, ...
— Jonah and Co. • Dornford Yates

... natives, they do not appear so shy as usual; they do not circumcise but have one or two teeth out in front of upper jaw. From what I could see the young men are not allowed to talk, but merely making a hissing and twittering noise to make themselves understood, and pointing and motioning with the hand whilst the old men do the talking business. I could make but little out of them. I made them a few presents with which they seemed much pleased; got a few words of ...
— McKinlay's Journal of Exploration in the Interior of Australia • John McKinlay

... great day when the cart is loaded with the buckets, and the procession starts into the woods. The sun shines brightly; the snow is soft and beginning to sink down; the snow-birds are twittering about, and the noise of shouting and of the blows of the axe echoes ...
— New National Fourth Reader • Charles J. Barnes and J. Marshall Hawkes

... cropping up sparsely and timidly out of the brown bosom of the earth; and, presently, all the glory of the golden crocuses unfolded itself in long golden lines in the vicarage garden; and there were twittering of birds and flutterings of soft breezes among the tree-tops, and a voice seemed to go forth over the face of the earth. The winter is over, and summer is nigh ...
— Vera Nevill - Poor Wisdom's Chance • Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron

... gains the ear, expresses a luxurious repose. No brilliant light mars the pervading softness of the atmosphere; no violent colour materialises the light, ethereal hues of the dresses; no sudden noises interrupt the fitful and plaintive notes of the lute, jar with the soft twittering of the birds in the aviaries, or drown the still, regular melody of the ladies' voices. All objects, animate and inanimate, are in harmony with each other. It is a scene of spiritualised indolence—a picture of dreamy beatitude in the inmost ...
— Antonina • Wilkie Collins

... Paris. An imperious order brought to his private room every silk, satin, and gauze within the range of pale pink, pale crocus, pale green, silver and azure. Then came chromatic scales of colour; combinations meant to vulgarise the rainbow; sinfonies and fugues; the twittering of birds and the great peace of dewy nature; maidenhood in her awakening innocence; "The Dawn in ...
— Democracy An American Novel • Henry Adams

... flecked and chequered the marble pavement, and the little carved fountain trilled and rippled till it incited the canary hanging in its gilded cage to break into song that drowned its splashing murmur, and silenced the sparrows twittering about the heavy woodwork of the old porch. That was my real world, because there was one figure, one face, that held me to it, as though by a spell that I could not, and never sought to break. I scarcely remember the time I did not ...
— Miss Grantley's Girls - And the Stories She Told Them • Thomas Archer

... storks and cranes, or the clamorous sea-birds and the screaming hawks. These suited better the rugged, warlike character of the times and the simple, powerful souls of the singers themselves. Homer must have heard the twittering of the swallows, the cry of the plover, the voice of the turtle, and the warble of the nightingale; but they were not adequate symbols to express what he felt or to adorn his theme. Aeschylus saw in the ...
— Birds and Poets • John Burroughs

... shores. The stillness of death reigns in this wilderness, interrupted only by the thunderings of the avalanche and by the noise which occasions the motion of the glaciers. No bird moves its wings or raises its twittering in this sorrowful region; only the melodious sighs of the cuckoo are borne thither by the ...
— Strife and Peace • Fredrika Bremer

... had now risen, and through the aperture facing east a streak of gold entered the hut. Outside the birds were singing, and all over the tiny island, on the pond, on the branches of the weeping willows, was heard a confusion of sounds, twittering and little shrill cries which announced an awakening to life. Looking out of the window, she could see the birds picking at the humid earth with their beaks, snapping at the worms. Over the pond floated a light mist. A wild duck, far prettier than the tame ducks, was swimming ...
— Nobody's Girl - (En Famille) • Hector Malot

... a forbidding room either, for at one end was a latticed window with diamond panes, and in the ivy that grew outside it you might imagine the little birds twittering in the summer time. The floor was covered with a heavy rug and a candelabra of a dozen candles gave a pleasant light. The room or cell was heated by coals ...
— Frontier Boys in Frisco • Wyn Roosevelt

... seems scarcely affected by the wearing of the centuries. The whole of the ponderous and complicated upper structure is sustained upon an open-work of round, plain pillars and cross-beams; the vast eaves are full of bird-nests; and the storm of twittering from the roofs is like a rushing of water. Immense the work is, and imposing in its aspect of settled power; but, in its way, it has great severity: there are no carvings, no gargoyles, no dragons; and yet the maze of projecting timbers ...
— Glimpses of an Unfamiliar Japan - First Series • Lafcadio Hearn

... that stood on the bank of the creek, and then seemed perfectly at his ease. He always kept on the opposite side of the tree, and the kingbird, active as he was, could not reach him. His loud, angry twittering soon brought his mate to his assistance, and then the woodpecker found himself between two fires. After trying in vain to elude them, he suddenly popped into a hole in the tree, and stuck out his long bill, as if defying them to enter. The kingbirds were ...
— Frank, the Young Naturalist • Harry Castlemon

... expanse of water seemed to possess a new beauty in the early morning sunlight, and the white Casino, of which the minarets were reflected in its blue depths, might have been a dream palace. Nothing broke the intense stillness but the loud, sweet twittering of the birds in the trees ...
— The Chink in the Armour • Marie Belloc Lowndes

... us, didn't she, Margaret?" she said, addressing the twittering hostess. "Surely you told her ...
— The Angel of Terror • Edgar Wallace

... the sun was shining, birds were twittering; somewhere in the world lambkins frisked and peasants sang blithely at their toil (flat, perhaps, but still blithely), but to Mike at that moment the sky was black, and an icy wind blew over the face of ...
— Mike • P. G. Wodehouse

... garden and the home orchard, where, in the former, Michaelmas daisies and sunflowers flaunted in the sunshine when she looked out the next morning, and apples, rosy and golden, were waiting to be gathered in the latter. Birds were twittering and peeping at her through the ivy-wreathed window; away in the stubble fields, under the hills, sheep were straying, all in a glory of golden light; while rooks cawed and clamoured in the many-coloured elms by the house ...
— The Heiress of Wyvern Court • Emilie Searchfield

... too much at the hesitations, the countless gropings, the preposterous follies of this virgin mind, which a butterfly lifts to the clouds, to which grains of sand are mountains, which understands the twittering of birds, ascribes thoughts to flowers, and souls to dolls, which believes in far-off realms, where the trees are sugar, the fields chocolate, and the rivers syrup, for which Punch and Mother Hubbard are real and powerful individuals, a mind ...
— Serge Panine • Georges Ohnet

... danced in the centre, to dazzle their expected prey. The mist still hovered on the valleys, and concealed a part of the landscape from their view; and the occasional sound of the fall of water was mingled with the twittering and chirping of the birds, as they flew from spray to spray. The air was fresh, even to keenness, and anyone suddenly wafted to the scene would little have imagined that he ...
— Newton Forster • Frederick Marryat

... my pretty bedroom, at an east window which is wide open, letting in the balmiest of airs, and the spring twittering of chaffinches and larks and other little birds, and the gentle music of the waves. Below the window I look at a very untidy bit of nondescript ground, with a few white-armed fig-trees and a number of flaunting Italian daisies—a little farther an enclosure of ...
— Lady John Russell • Desmond MacCarthy and Agatha Russell

... earlier in the woods than in the quiet bedrooms at home. Birds were twittering around the little camp before sunrise, the breeze blew noisily through the low-hanging branches, and the children were awake before the ...
— Harper's Young People, September 21, 1880 - An Illustrated Weekly • Various

... Tom reached the bend in the bank, beside some red-bud bushes, and there he stayed. A level shaft of light shot through the forest. The birds, twittering, awoke. A great hawk soared high in the blue over our heads. An hour passed. I had sighted the rifle among the yellow leaves of the fallen oak an hundred times. But Polly Ann looked not once to the right or left. Her eyes ...
— The Crossing • Winston Churchill

... Boy answered his own question. He limped over to his side of the tent, picked up some clothes, his blanket and few belongings, and made a pack. Not a word, not a sound, but some birds twittering outside in the sun and a locust making that frying sound in the fire-weed. The pack was slung on the Boy's back, and he was throwing the diamond hitch to fasten it when the Colonel at last ...
— The Magnetic North • Elizabeth Robins (C. E. Raimond)

... They arrived late in the afternoon, and when I took them out upon the terrace the sun was reddening the moor, and even the rough, gray towers of the castle were stained rose-color. There was that lovely evening sound of birds twittering before they went to sleep in the ivy. The glimpses of gardens below seemed like glimpses of rich tapestries set with jewels. And there was such stillness! When we drew our three chairs in a little group together and looked ...
— The White People • Frances Hodgson Burnett

... little chatter-boxes they are. Long after sunset, when all the other birds are sleeping, the swallows still are chattering softly. It sounds as if they were telling one another some pretty story, and often I am sure there must be humour in it, for every now and then one hears a little twittering laugh. I delight in having them there, so close to me. The fancy comes to me that one day, when my brain has grown more cunning, I, too, listening in the twilight, shall hear ...
— Idle Ideas in 1905 • Jerome K. Jerome

... likely to give birth. Sitting with my back propped against the windlass and the newly purchased rifle across my knees, I found that cowardice, like other base passions, may suddenly develop an infection. With nerves twittering and muscles tensely set, I was ready to become a homicidal maniac at the snapping of a twig or the rolling of a pebble down ...
— Branded • Francis Lynde

... do it!" he muttered, as he lowered his weapon and looked back over his shoulder at his comrade. The Scot, who was something of a naturalist, was engrossed at the moment in the contemplation of a little bird which was twittering on a twig ...
— Blue Lights - Hot Work in the Soudan • R.M. Ballantyne

... not a clod, intent On being just an earthly thing, I'd be that rare embodiment Of Heart and Spirit, Voice and Wing, With pure, ecstatic, rapture-sent, Divinely-tender twittering That Echo swoons to re-present,— A bluebird in ...
— Songs of Friendship • James Whitcomb Riley

... the sweet twittering of birds, the breath of syringas and roses, and a faultless sky. It was a ...
— The First Soprano • Mary Hitchcock

... smelling at the mezereon, and admiring Miss Anna's border of yellow crocuses, as the gardener said, as much as if they had been fine plants out of a conservatory. The birds themselves seemed to begin their twittering in the trees, and the cows their lowing in the meadow, from the hour that Mrs Rowland went away. In other words, there were many whom that event left free and at ease to observe the harmonies of nature, who were usually compelled to observe ...
— Deerbrook • Harriet Martineau

... the sun and the heavens. To his eyes there was nothing poetic in the flash of the distant church-spires against the billowy cloudbanks. The gray doves, circling about the chimneys, did not inspire him, nor the twittering of the sparrows on the window ledge. There was nothing at all in the world but a long stretch of barren, lonely years. And he wondered how, without her at his side, he ever could traverse them. He was driftwood again. ...
— Arms and the Woman • Harold MacGrath

... eyes the next morning, it was with a strange feeling of wonder at his new surroundings. Birds were twittering out-of-doors, and there was a soft lapping of water on the shore. The green boughs of a cherry tree almost brushed against the window-panes. He was no longer in his old garret room, but in a pretty apartment, with bunches of rosebuds on the walls, and scent-bottles on the toilet-table, ...
— Prince Lazybones and Other Stories • Mrs. W. J. Hays

... he went in the rain, And twittering, tottering sideways he ne'er got straight again. He stooped to get a worm, and looked up to get a fly, And then he flew away ere ...
— Life and Remains of John Clare - "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet" • J. L. Cherry

... on her when she came in, "I'm about tired of looking on at all this twittering round that lot in there. You're through with that for to-day, and maybe for to-morrow and the ...
— Christopher and Columbus • Countess Elizabeth Von Arnim

... dairy-maids. Its only light came through a small window shaded with shrubs and ivy, which stood open, and let in the scents of bud and blossom, weaving a net of sweetness in the gloom, through which, like a silver thread, shot the twittering song of a bird, which had inherited the gathered carelessness and bliss of a long ancestry in ...
— Mary Marston • George MacDonald

... touch of Parisian life, small in itself, but subtle and suggestive as the premonition of spring awakened by the twittering of the sparrows in the tall, leafless trees, and the throbbing song of a caged canary that floated down from a window above a shop. It was suggestive of that Parisian life that is as restless as the sea, as uncontrollable, ...
— Max • Katherine Cecil Thurston

... bosco, or grove, that fills the deep hollow space formed by the sheltering cliffs behind. It was mid-winter, as we have said, yet pink cyclamens and strong-scented double narcissi were blooming freely, whilst from the dark boughs of the ilex trees overhead there fell upon the ear the pleasant twittering of innumerable birds, for happily the cruel snare and the gun are strictly forbidden in this sacred spot, so that his "little sisters, the birds," that the gentle Saint of Assisi loved so tenderly, can still sing their songs of innocence and build their nests in ...
— The Naples Riviera • Herbert M. Vaughan

... Obscured, and hid by death's oblivious shroud, And Earth inherits the rich melody Like raining music from the morning cloud. Yet, few there be who pipe so sweet and loud Their voices reach us through the lapse of space: The noisy day is deafen'd by a crowd Of undistinguished birds, a twittering race; But only lark and nightingale forlorn Fill up the silences of night ...
— The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood • Thomas Hood

... and stone on the public highway. The coffin in its covering of straw tumbled out of the van, and was left on the high-road, while horses, coachman, and carriage flew past in wild career. The lark rose up carolling from the field, twittering her morning lay over the coffin, and presently perched upon it, picking with her beak at the straw covering, as though she would tear it up. The lark rose up again, singing gaily, and I withdrew behind ...
— What the Moon Saw: and Other Tales • Hans Christian Andersen

... she stood on the roof watching the clouds of twittering birds as they flew in the direction of the Libyan Hills, and then she slipped quietly down the stairway, leaving her friends, supremely oblivious of her presence or absence, weaving their love-tale on the roof of the ...
— Desert Love • Joan Conquest

... in the early dawn! The fog had risen and shining frost pearls hung in the bare twigs of the tall trees where the sparrows were already twittering their morning song. There was no one to be seen. The churchyard lay quiet and peaceful. I stepped over the heaps of bones to where the heavy oaken coffin lay under a tree. Cautiously I pushed the arm back into its interior, and hammered the rusty nails into their places again, just as the ...
— The Most Interesting Stories of All Nations • Julian Hawthorne

... forth and was glad, for the birds sang sweetly, and it seemed to him as if everything sported and danced out of mere joy to be alive. Here flew two finches through the thicket, and, twittering, pursued each other; there, the young buds burst asunder, and the tender leaves peeped out and expanded themselves in the warm sun, as if they would abide in his glance for ever; here, a dewdrop trembled, sparkling and twinkling on a blade of grass, and knew not that beneath him stood ...
— Peter Schlemihl etc. • Chamisso et. al.

... gazing wistfully through the window, they saw their playful little kitten, Fanny, dart like lightning from her hiding-place in the garden, where she had long lain in ambush, and fasten her sharp claws in the back of a poor little ground-bird, which had been hopping from twig to twig, chirping and twittering very cheerfully. The little bird fluttered, gasped, and uttered wailing cries, as it ineffectually labored to free itself from the power of its captor, until Emma and Anna, unable longer to witness its ...
— Small Means and Great Ends • Edited by Mrs. M. H. Adams

... Thunder Mountain. The scent of the harvest in the meadows blended with the odor of burning pine that came from the ranch house, where Flick built the fire for supper. On the hill the pines were still, but the brook babbled on, and there was an incessant low twittering of ...
— The Heart of Thunder Mountain • Edfrid A. Bingham

... whistle without distorting her lips because her grandfather had forbidden her to whistle and if she held her mouth almost normal he couldn't tell when he looked out into the garden whether it was Felice or the birds who were twittering. ...
— Little Miss By-The-Day • Lucille Van Slyke

... upon us, and what had been inaudible to me, but quite plain to the boy, came faintly from the distance—the twittering cry of a bird in one of the trees at the edge of the forest; and directly after it was answered from far away, and I felt my father's cold wet hand grasp mine as he ...
— Mass' George - A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah • George Manville Fenn

... an easy enough question to ask and, to them, hovering twittering upon high heels a trifle worn to one side, a simple one for her to answer. She looked at them in that humorous, kindly way of hers, looked at their silly, excited, made-up faces with noses sticking out stark, like handles, ...
— O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921 • Various

... while, where your sisters teach poor children and nurse the sick, and your mother makes tea at the grate for your father when he comes home after services. Oh, Mary, if you and I could go to that place! It is so pleasant there." In the blue light and in the silence her thin voice recalled the twittering of a lark. ...
— The Argonauts • Eliza Orzeszko (AKA Orzeszkowa)

... later in the day Major Monkey began to notice that a good many of his neighbors looked at him very coldly. The birds, especially, glared at him as if they were actually angry. And wherever he went they set up a loud twittering. Some of them even flew at his head and tried to peck him as ...
— The Tale of Major Monkey • Arthur Scott Bailey

... swallow is remarkably swift in flight; 'their note is a slight twittering, which they seldom if ever exert but upon the ...
— The Works of John Bunyan • John Bunyan

... while creepers and ferns glided up the tall, smooth trunks, mingling with the boughs, and hanging in every direction waving curtains of flowers, of the sweetest odours and the most vivid colours. With shrill twittering cry and rapid wings flashed the humming-bird from bough to bough; the pepper-pecker, with glowing plumage, soared timorously upwards; while parrots and paroquets, and innumerable birds of beautiful appearance, added, ...
— The Story of Ida Pfeiffer - and Her Travels in Many Lands • Anonymous

... afternoons at Polchester, my father coming back from golf, I myself going into the old red-walled garden for tea, with some novel under my arm, the cathedral bell ringing for Evensong just over the wall across the Green, then slowly dropping to its close, then the faint murmur of the organ. Some bird twittering in a tree overhead, buttered toast in a neat pile placed carefully over hot water to keep it warm; honey, heavy home-made cake, perhaps the local weekly paper with the "Do you know that ..." column demanding one's critical attention. One's annoyed ...
— The Dark Forest • Hugh Walpole

... chirping and twittering in the space behind him caused him to turn sharply away from the books and bottles. Then he saw that he was no longer alone. Half a score sparrows, busy, bustling little bodies, had come in by the open window, and were strutting about amongst the ...
— The Chestermarke Instinct • J. S. Fletcher

... of Lassiter's horse over her arm. They entered a grove and walked down a wide path shaded by great low-branching cottonwoods. The last rays of the setting sun sent golden bars through the leaves. The grass was deep and rich, welcome contrast to sage-tired eyes. Twittering quail darted across the path, and from a tree-top somewhere a robin sang its evening song, and on the still air floated the freshness ...
— Riders of the Purple Sage • Zane Grey

... he slips from the [471-504]chariot-pole, herself succeeds and turns the wavy reins, tones and limbs and armour all of Metiscus' wearing. As when a black swallow flits through some rich lord's spacious house, and circles in flight the lofty halls, gathering her tiny food for sustenance to her twittering nestlings, and now swoops down the spacious colonnades, now round the wet ponds; in like wise dart Juturna's horses amid the enemy, and her fleet chariot passes flying over all the field. And now here and now here ...
— The Aeneid of Virgil • Virgil

... Mary's hair—brought quick tears to her eyes—and she was wondering if Wally was right, after all—if love (as he often told her) was indeed the one great thing of life and nothing else mattered, when her door opened and Helen came twittering in. ...
— Mary Minds Her Business • George Weston

... starlings and sparrows sang of Christmas pies; the jackdaws woke up in the Cathedral tower; and although it was the middle of the night the throstles and robins sang; and air was quite full of little twittering tunes. ...
— The Great Big Treasury of Beatrix Potter • Beatrix Potter

... Birds awoke with startled twittering, and various creatures of the underbrush, which had been attracted to the light of the lantern, fled away in terror. She sent her voice in the direction of the cabin they had mistaken for their own. Drunk or not, there were men there, and she ...
— Kildares of Storm • Eleanor Mercein Kelly

... such things produce, by any profane repetition! They leave behind them, every one of them, an echo, a vibration, a dying fall, leaving us enchanted and trembling; as when we have been touched, before the twittering of the birds at dawn, by the very fingers of ...
— Visions and Revisions - A Book of Literary Devotions • John Cowper Powys

... for study was small. His teachers shook their heads. Their considerable experience of the world had never yet offered them a being so constituted. He listened more eagerly to the lowing of a herd of cows and to the twittering of the sparrows than to the best founded principles of grammatical science. Some of them thought him dull, others malicious. He passed from class to class with difficulty and solely by virtue of a marvellous faculty of guessing. ...
— The Goose Man • Jacob Wassermann

... a piper piping on a reed To listening flocks of sheep and bearded goats; I hear the larks shrill-warbling o'er the mead Their silver sonnets from their golden throats; And in my boyhood's clover-fields I hear The twittering swallows and the hum of bees. Ah, sweeter to my heart and to my ear Than any idyl poet ever sung, The low, sweet music of their melodies; Because I listened when my soul was young, In those dear meadows under maple trees. My heart they molded when its clay was moist, And all my ...
— The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems • H. L. Gordon

... keeps constant to the fringe of ocean. It is the most narrowly local and stay-at-home of all birds, never leaving the very fringe and margin, not of sea, but of land, haunting only the last edge and precipice of the coast, nesting on those upright walls of granite or chalk, and creeping, flying, and twittering among the crumbling stones, the water-worn boulders, and the tufts of sea-pink and samphire. When the winter storms slam the roaring billows against the cliff faces and the spray flies up a hundred feet from the exploding mass, the little sea-larks ...
— The Naturalist on the Thames • C. J. Cornish

... sandbirds twittering glance Through crystal air. On the horizon's marge, Like a huge purple wraith, The ...
— Lippincott's Magazine, Vol. 20, August 1877 • Various

... rock of granite stood out. Arrived at the rock, I hunted long and diligently for water. Numerous rock-holes were to be seen, but all were dry, and my hopes of making this our base from which to prospect in various directions were at first short-lived; but before long I was overjoyed to hear the twittering of a little flock of Diamond sparrows—a nearly certain sign that water must be handy; and sure enough I found their supply at the bottom of a narrow, round hole, down which I ...
— Spinifex and Sand - Five Years' Pioneering and Exploration in Western Australia • David W Carnegie

... sunshine and the flower-scented silence, broken only by the twittering of birds nesting in the ivy, her Grace lay soft asleep, her son resting on her arm, when Anne stole to look at her and her child. Through the night she had knelt praying in her chamber, and now she knelt again. She kissed the ...
— A Lady of Quality • Frances Hodgson Burnett

... flung His long hair back, and laughed and sung And clapped his hands as children do At fairy tales they listen to, While from his flying quill there dripped Such music on his manuscript That he who listens to the words May close his eyes and dream the birds Are twittering on every hand A language he can understand. He journeyed on through life, unknown, Without one friend to call his own; He tired. No kindly hand to press The cooling touch of tenderness Upon his burning brow, nor lift To his parched lips God's freest gift— No sympathetic ...
— The Complete Works • James Whitcomb Riley

... Bill carried her in and up the stairs to one of the newly furnished rooms. The little man was twittering with anxiety. He had a horror of knockout drops and the police. They laid her on the bed, her hat beside her; and Wilson, stripping down the long sleeve of ...
— K • Mary Roberts Rinehart

... dying fall Could ought but love's sweet griefs recall; Thou scarce would'st gather from her song The tale of brother's barbarous wrong. She sings, but I must silent be:— When will the spring-tide come for me? When, like the swallow, spring's own bird, Shall my faint twittering notes be heard? Alas! the muse, while silent I Remain'd, hath gone and pass'd me by, Nor Phoebus listens to my cry. And thus forgotten, I await, By ...
— Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCXXXII. - June, 1843.,Vol. LIII. • Various

... I sauntered forth quite sad at heart, when an unexpected familiar twittering greeted my ear, and I turned northward to see my little friends circling about the stables. Life closer to the front had evidently not offered any particular advantages, and in a few days' time their constant comings and goings from certain specific ...
— With Those Who Wait • Frances Wilson Huard

... Luther's house—a part of the old convent. Wide yawns the stone doorway of the court; a grinning masque grotesquely looks down from its centre, and odd carvings from the sides. A colony of swallows have established their nests among the queer old carvings and gnome-like faces, and are twittering in and out, superintending their domestic arrangements. We enter a court surrounded with buildings; then ascend, through a strange doorway, a winding staircase, passing small, lozenge-shaped window. Up these stairs he oft trod, ...
— Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands V2 • Harriet Beecher Stowe

... write the Daily Telegraph leaders, and whether the Savoy Restaurant is as good under the new management as under the old. I reckon there are about 12,055 of these people. They constitute the elite. Without their aid, without their refined and judicial twittering, no book can hope to be a book ...
— Books and Persons - Being Comments on a Past Epoch 1908-1911 • Arnold Bennett

... rose and stretched his one good arm and the other that was visibly twisted and scarred between wrist and elbow, above his head, "let's go downstairs and prattle. I see a car in front, and I hear twittering voices." ...
— Poor Man's Rock • Bertrand W. Sinclair

... gratefully to the silver of the sky with the grey, quiet trees against it and the watery gleam of sunset like pale gold, low down behind the boughs, where the robin, half seen, is flitting from place to place, choosing his rest and twittering his good-night; and you think with good hope of your life that is coming, and of all your aspirations and your dreams. And in the stillness and the coolness and the peace you can dwell with confidence ...
— Stained Glass Work - A text-book for students and workers in glass • C. W. Whall

... mantle over the shoulders of a girl of fourteen, sick, with face of the purest alabaster, and of features as fine as were ever traced for Venus Anadyomene, with large, solemn, dreamy eyes, watching a robin that was perched on the proscenium and was twittering. ...
— In Troubadour-Land - A Ramble in Provence and Languedoc • S. Baring-Gould

... sight. Silvia sat by our bedroom window twittering soft, cooing nonsensical nothings to Diogenes, who was clasped in her arms, his flushed little face ...
— Our Next-Door Neighbors • Belle Kanaris Maniates

... we?" little Gretel asked, not recalling all that had happened to them since the day before. "I hear the birds twittering high in the branches. We certainly are not ...
— Operas Every Child Should Know - Descriptions of the Text and Music of Some of the Most Famous Masterpieces • Mary Schell Hoke Bacon

... bank, pasting each other with mud, the little barefoot boys of spring chase each other, with their vertebrae sticking into the warm and sleepy air, while down in the marsh, where the cat-tails and the broad flags and the peach can and the deceased horse grow, the bull-frog is twittering ...
— Remarks • Bill Nye

... when resting from my toil, I sit out under the leafy canopy and revel in the sounds that can be heard only in the country—the croaking of the frogs, the soft twittering of the birds somewhere near, yet out of sight, the cosey crooning of the chickens as they settle upon their perches for the night, and the lonely hooting of the owl somewhere in the big tree down in the pasture. I need not move from my seat nor barter my money ...
— Reveries of a Schoolmaster • Francis B. Pearson

... save for what might well have been the pressure of my own head. My breath came more freely, and I turned to the window. The sun had just risen, the golden tree-tops were touched with light, faint threads of mist hung here and there across the sky, and the twittering of birds sounded clearly through the ...
— The Lock and Key Library • Julian Hawthorne, Ed.



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