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THE PETER-BIRD by Eugene Field: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Eugene Field

A Kentucky witch's curse, a lazy bookworm boy, and a neighborhood full of shouting relatives — that's the backdrop for this tall-tale poem.

The poem
Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter, And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over; Down in the pasture the sheep hear that strange crying for Peter, Over the meadows that call is aye and forever repeated. So let me tell you the tale, when, where, and how it all happened, And, when the story is told, let us pay heed to the lesson. Once on a time, long ago, lived in the State of Kentucky One that was reckoned a witch--full of strange spells and devices; Nightly she wandered the woods, searching for charms voodooistic-- Scorpions, lizards, and herbs, dormice, chameleons, and plantains! Serpents and caw-caws and bats, screech-owls and crickets and adders-- These were the guides of that witch through the dank deeps of the forest. Then, with her roots and her herbs, back to her cave in the morning Ambled that hussy to brew spells of unspeakable evil; And, when the people awoke, seeing that hillside and valley Sweltered in swathes as of mist--"Look!" they would whisper in terror-- "Look! the old witch is at work brewing her spells of great evil!" Then would they pray till the sun, darting his rays through the vapor, Lifted the smoke from the earth and baffled the witch's intentions. One of the boys at that time was a certain young person named Peter, Given too little to work, given too largely to dreaming; Fonder of books than of chores, you can imagine that Peter Led a sad life on the farm, causing his parents much trouble. "Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!" "Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!" So it was "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding-- Peter neglected his work; therefore that nagging at Peter! Peter got hold of some books--how, I'm unable to tell you; Some have suspected the witch--this is no place for suspicions! It is sufficient to stick close to the thread of the legend. Nor is it stated or guessed what was the trend of those volumes; What thing soever it was--done with a pen and a pencil, Wrought with a brain, not a hoe--surely 't was hostile to farming! "Fudge on all readin'!" they quoth; or "_that's_ what's the ruin of Peter!" So, when the mornings were hot, under the beech or the maple, Cushioned in grass that was blue, breathing the breath of the blossoms, Lulled by the hum of the bees, the coo of the ring-doves a-mating, Peter would frivol his time at reading, or lazing, or dreaming. "Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!" "Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!" "Peter!" and "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding-- Peter neglected his chores; therefore that outcry for Peter; Therefore the neighbors allowed evil would surely befall him-- Yes, on account of these things, ruin would come upon Peter! Surely enough, on a time, reading and lazing and dreaming Wrought the calamitous ill all had predicted for Peter; For, of a morning in spring when lay the mist in the valleys-- "See," quoth the folk, "how the witch breweth her evil decoctions! See how the smoke from her fire broodeth on woodland and meadow! Grant that the sun cometh out to smother the smudge of her caldron! She hath been forth in the night, full of her spells and devices, Roaming the marshes and dells for heathenish magical nostrums; Digging in leaves and at stumps for centipedes, pismires, and spiders, Grubbing in poisonous pools for hot salamanders and toadstools; Charming the bats from the flues, snaring the lizards by twilight, Sucking the scorpion's egg and milking the breast of the adder!" Peter derided these things held in such faith by the farmer, Scouted at magic and charms, hooted at Jonahs and hoodoos-- Thinking and reading of books must have unsettled his reason! "There ain't no witches," he cried; "it isn't smoky, but foggy! I will go out in the wet--you all can't hender me, nuther!" Surely enough he went out into the damp of the morning, Into the smudge that the witch spread over woodland and meadow, Into the fleecy gray pall brooding on hillside and valley. Laughing and scoffing, he strode into that hideous vapor; Just as he said he would do, just as he bantered and threatened, Ere they could fasten the door, Peter had done gone and done it! Wasting his time over books, you see, had unsettled his reason-- Soddened his callow young brain with semi-pubescent paresis, And his neglect of his chores hastened this evil condition. Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over; Down in the pasture the sheep hear that shrill crying for Peter, Up from the spring house the wail stealeth anon like a whisper, Over the meadows that call is aye and forever repeated. Such were the voices that whooped wildly and vainly for Peter Decades and decades ago down in the State of Kentucky-- Such _are_ the voices that cry now from the woodland and meadow, "Peter--O Peter!" all day, calling, reminding, and chiding-- Taking us back to the time when Peter he done gone and done it! These are the voices of those left by the boy in the farmhouse When, with his laughter and scorn, hatless and bootless and sockless, Clothed in his jeans and his pride, Peter sailed out in the weather, Broke from the warmth of his home into that fog of the devil, Into the smoke of that witch brewing her damnable porridge! Lo, when he vanished from sight, knowing the evil that threatened, Forth with importunate cries hastened his father and mother. "Peter!" they shrieked in alarm, "Peter!" and evermore "Peter!"-- Ran from the house to the barn, ran from the barn to the garden, Ran to the corn-crib anon, then to the smoke-house proceeded; Henhouse and woodpile they passed, calling and wailing and weeping, Through the front gate to the road, braving the hideous vapor-- Sought him in lane and on pike, called him in orchard and meadow, Clamoring "Peter!" in vain, vainly outcrying for Peter. Joining the search came the rest, brothers and sisters and cousins, Venting unspeakable fears in pitiful wailing for Peter! And from the neighboring farms gathered the men and the women, Who, upon hearing the news, swelled the loud chorus for Peter. Farmers and hussifs and maids, bosses and field-hands and niggers, Colonels and jedges galore from cornfields and mint-beds and thickets, All that had voices to voice, all to those parts appertaining, Came to engage in the search, gathered and bellowed for Peter. The Taylors, the Dorseys, the Browns, the Wallers, the Mitchells, the Logans, The Yenowines, Crittendens, Dukes, the Hickmans, the Hobbses, the Morgans; The Ormsbys, the Thompsons, the Hikes, the Williamsons, Murrays, and Hardins, The Beynroths, the Sherleys, the Hokes, the Haldermans, Harneys, and Slaughters-- All, famed in Kentucky of old for prowess prodigious at farming, Now surged from their prosperous homes to join in that hunt for the truant, To ascertain where he was at, to help out the chorus for Peter. Still on those prosperous farms where heirs and assigns of the people Specified hereinabove and proved by the records of probate-- _Still_ on those farms shall you hear (and still on the turnpikes adjacent) That pitiful, petulant call, that pleading, expostulant wailing, That hopeless, monotonous moan, that crooning and droning for Peter. Some say the witch in her wrath transmogrified all those good people; That, wakened from slumber that day by the calling and bawling for Peter, She out of her cave in a thrice, and, waving the foot of a rabbit (Crossed with the caul of a coon and smeared with the blood of a chicken), She changed all those folk into birds and shrieked with demoniac venom: "Fly away over the land, moaning your Peter forever, Croaking of Peter, the boy who didn't believe there were hoodoos, Crooning of Peter, the fool who scouted at stories of witches, Crying of Peter for aye, forever outcalling for Peter!" This is the story they tell; so in good sooth saith the legend; As I have told it to you, so tell the folk and the legend. That it is true I believe, for on the breezes this morning Come the shrill voices of birds calling and calling for Peter; Out of the maple and beech glitter the eyes of the wailers, Peeping and peering for him who formerly lived in these places-- Peter, the heretic lad, lazy and careless and dreaming, Sorely afflicted with books and with pubescent paresis, Hating the things of the farm, care of the barn and the garden, Always neglecting his chores--given to books and to reading, Which, as all people allow, turn the young person to mischief, Harden his heart against toil, wean his affections from tillage. This is the legend of yore told in the state of Kentucky When in the springtime the birds call from the beeches and maples, Call from the petulant thorn, call from the acrid persimmon; When from the woods by the creek and from the pastures and meadows, When from the spring house and lane and from the mint-bed and orchard, When from the redbud and gum and from the redolent lilac, When from the dirt roads and pikes cometh that calling for Peter; Cometh the dolorous cry, cometh that weird iteration Of "Peter" and "Peter" for aye, of "Peter" and "Peter" forever! This is the legend of old, told in the tum-titty meter Which the great poets prefer, being less labor than rhyming (My first attempt at the same, my _last_ attempt, too, I reckon!); Nor have I further to say, for the sad story is ended.

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
A Kentucky witch's curse, a lazy bookworm boy, and a neighborhood full of shouting relatives — that's the backdrop for this tall-tale poem. Peter skips his farm chores to dive into books and daydreams, then boldly walks into a witch's morning fog and vanishes for good. Those who called out for him were said to have been transformed into birds by the enraged witch, which is why you can still hear birds calling "Peter! Peter!" in the fields and woods today.
Themes

Line-by-line

Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter, / And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
Field opens with the unsettling sound of birds calling across a Kentucky landscape. Before we grasp the story, we're thrust into its eerie aftermath — a cry that seems endless. This serves as a frame, drawing us in with a mystery: who is Peter, and why does everyone keep calling for him?
Once on a time, long ago, lived in the State of Kentucky / One that was reckoned a witch--full of strange spells and devices;
The narrator fully embraces the folk-tale vibe, introducing the witch who wanders the woods at night, gathering bizarre ingredients for her spells. The lengthy, winding list of creatures — scorpions, bats, screech-owls, adders — creates a darkly comic atmosphere. The townspeople dread the morning mist, convinced it’s the witch's smoke.
One of the boys at that time was a certain young person named Peter, / Given too little to work, given too largely to dreaming;
Here comes our protagonist, and Field's tongue is clearly in his cheek. Peter is both a reader and a dreamer living on a farm that has little patience for either. His parents' relentless nagging — 'Peter! Peter!' — will echo throughout the entire poem. This repetition serves a dual purpose: it reflects the realities of family life while also hinting at the birds' constant call.
Peter got hold of some books--how, I'm unable to tell you; / Some have suspected the witch--this is no place for suspicions!
Field adopts the role of an unreliable narrator, playfully engaging the reader. The idea that the witch might have provided the books is hinted at and then quickly retracted, making the suggestion linger in the mind. The community's judgment — 'Fudge on all readin'!' — is presented with a sense of mock seriousness, poking fun at the rural distrust of education and intellectual pursuits.
So, when the mornings were hot, under the beech or the maple, / Cushioned in grass that was blue, breathing the breath of the blossoms,
This is the poem's most truly beautiful passage. Field takes a moment to slow down, allowing the sensory details to come alive — bees buzzing, ring-doves cooing, blue grass beneath our feet. It feels like a little paradise, making it easy for the reader to empathize with Peter's choice to enjoy it instead of weeding. However, the recurring parental calls break this peaceful scene, much like a needle scratching against a record.
Surely enough, on a time, reading and lazing and dreaming / Wrought the calamitous ill all had predicted for Peter;
The narrator acts as if he agrees with the neighbors who blame Peter's love of books for his downfall, but the over-the-top language ('calamitous ill,' 'pubescent paresis') shows that Field is mocking the community's reasoning rather than supporting it. Peter sees the witch's fog as just regular weather and steps into it regardless—this act of rational skepticism is portrayed in the poem as both courageous and reckless.
Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter / And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
The opening frame comes back, but we now grasp its meaning. The cries belong to Peter's family and neighbors, turned into birds by the witch's vengeance. The repetition of these lines forms a loop — the poem mimics the never-ending, unfulfilled calling. The change from 'were' to 'are' in 'Such _are_ the voices' blends past and present into a single, ongoing sorrow.
Lo, when he vanished from sight, knowing the evil that threatened, / Forth with importunate cries hastened his father and mother.
The search scene leans heavily into comedy, with the entire county showing up as Field lists off a long string of Kentucky family names. However, the humor doesn't mask the real sadness beneath: these are parents grieving the loss of a child. The comedy and the pain coexist side by side, showcasing Field's trademark style.
Farmers and hussifs and maids, bosses and field-hands and niggers, / Colonels and jedges galore from cornfields and mint-beds and thickets,
Field presents a vivid picture of the social spectrum in a 19th-century Kentucky community participating in the search. The dialect spellings ('jedges,' 'hussifs') and the humorous collection of names that follow draw from the rich tradition of tall tales. The use of the word 'niggers' highlights the casual racism of Field's time and is highly offensive today—it serves as a stark reminder that the nostalgic Kentucky depicted in the poem is also rooted in slavery and racial hierarchies.
Still on those prosperous farms where heirs and assigns of the people / Specified hereinabove and proved by the records of probate--
Field suddenly drops legal terms like 'heirs and assigns' and 'records of probate' into the folk tale, creating a humorous clash. This choice subtly emphasizes the poem’s theme: while these farming families and their land remain, Peter — the dreamer and the reader — has vanished. The thriving farms continue, but the boy who never quite belonged to them does not.
Some say the witch in her wrath transmogrified all those good people; / That, wakened from slumber that day by the calling and bawling for Peter,
The witch's spell that turns the searchers into birds serves as the poem's mythological payoff — a unique tale that explains why the Eastern Towhee (whose call resembles 'drink-your-tea' or 'Peter-Peter') is heard across the Kentucky countryside. The witch's curse comes through in furious verse, making it the most lively section of the poem, bursting with demonic delight.
This is the story they tell; so in good sooth saith the legend; / As I have told it to you, so tell the folk and the legend.
Field wraps up by returning to the narrator's perspective, affirming his belief in the legend because he can still hear the birds calling. The closing stanzas layer on sarcastic moral lessons about the perils of reading while ignoring chores — all with a playful smirk. The very last lines completely break the fourth wall, as Field makes a joke about the poem's meter (dactylic hexameter, inspired by Homer and Longfellow) and vows never to try it again.

Tone & mood

The tone remains playful and satirical, infused with a warm affection for folk tales. Field is clearly enjoying himself — the over-the-top vocabulary, the cheeky narrator, and the ridiculous legal jargon woven into a witch story — but he skillfully maintains the story's charm without letting the humor overshadow it. Underneath the comedy, there’s a subtle, melancholic undertone: a boy vanishes, his family calls for him endlessly, and life continues. Field expertly balances these two tones — comedic and mournful — until the very end.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The morning fog / witch's smokeThe mist drifting over the Kentucky valleys represents the line between the rational world and the supernatural. For the farming community, it signifies witchcraft; for Peter, it’s simply weather. This clash of interpretations is what leads to his death—or his transformation. The fog also symbolizes the unknown that consumes anyone who dares to step beyond the community's shared beliefs.
  • Books and readingBooks symbolize the struggle between intellectual life and agrarian practicality in the poem. The community views them as dangerous, even sinister—perhaps provided by the witch herself. Field satirizes this fear but also recognizes that Peter's love for books genuinely distances him from his surroundings in ways that can have dire consequences. Reading represents both freedom and solitude.
  • The birds' cry of 'Peter'The Eastern Towhee's call, which resembles someone calling a name, becomes a lasting symbol of grief that endures beyond the one who mourns. These birds carry the voices of all who loved and lost Peter, still seeking him. Their cry also reflects how communities remember those they've lost — not through monuments, but through echoes of half-understood sounds that are shared across generations.
  • The farm and its choresThe farm embodies the needs of everyday communal life—the world Peter is meant to be part of. Churning cream and pulling weeds may not be glamorous, but they are essential for the community's survival. Peter's unwillingness to participate sets him apart as an outsider from the very beginning, and his fate is presented (with a touch of satire) as the unavoidable result of that choice.
  • The witchThe witch serves as the community's way of making sense of things beyond its control — like bad weather, peculiar children, and mysterious disappearances. She also brings humor, embodying the folk superstitions that Peter's logical thinking dismisses. Her curse at the end becomes a tangible representation of the community’s fears: those who stray from conventional paths are lost, and their loved ones are left forever altered.

Historical context

Eugene Field wrote this poem in the 1880s, when he was the most popular newspaper columnist in America, known for his children's verses and humorous sketches. "The Peter-Bird" taps into the rich tradition of Kentucky folk legends and American tall tales, which combined comic exaggeration with authentic regional storytelling. The poem also showcases Field's literary playfulness: he uses dactylic hexameter, a meter found in Homer's Iliad and Longfellow's Evangeline, and humorously claims in the last lines that it was his first and last attempt at this form. The "Peter-bird" mentioned in the title likely refers to the Eastern Towhee, a common bird in the American South, whose call locals have long interpreted as repeating a name. Field's poem lies at the intersection of children's literature, regional folklore, and light social satire—gently poking fun at rural skepticism towards formal education while showing clear affection for the folk tradition.

FAQ

It's the Eastern Towhee, a bird found throughout the eastern United States, known for its call that resembles a repeated name or phrase. In Kentucky and beyond, folks have often likened its song to 'Peter' or 'drink-your-tea.' Field weaves an entire folk-legend origin story around that distinctive sound.

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