THE PETER-BIRD by Eugene Field: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
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.
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.
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;
Once on a time, long ago, lived in the State of Kentucky / One that was reckoned a witch--full of strange spells and devices;
One of the boys at that time was a certain young person named Peter, / Given too little to work, given too largely to dreaming;
Peter got hold of some books--how, I'm unable to tell you; / Some have suspected the witch--this is no place for suspicions!
So, when the mornings were hot, under the beech or the maple, / Cushioned in grass that was blue, breathing the breath of the blossoms,
Surely enough, on a time, reading and lazing and dreaming / Wrought the calamitous ill all had predicted for Peter;
Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter / And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
Lo, when he vanished from sight, knowing the evil that threatened, / Forth with importunate cries hastened his father and mother.
Farmers and hussifs and maids, bosses and field-hands and niggers, / Colonels and jedges galore from cornfields and mint-beds and thickets,
Still on those prosperous farms where heirs and assigns of the people / Specified hereinabove and proved by the records of probate--
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,
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.
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 smoke — The 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 reading — Books 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 chores — The 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 witch — The 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.
It's both, and that's the point. Field is crafting a comic tall tale, with humor woven throughout — the pompous vocabulary, the playful narrator, the ridiculous legal jargon. Yet beneath the laughter lies a genuine folk story about a boy who goes missing and a family that keeps calling for him. The comedy and the sadness exist side by side.
Field is poking fun at the community's fear of learning from books rather than supporting it. When the narrator dramatically states that reading 'turn[s] the young person to mischief,' the exaggerated language makes it obvious that it's a joke aimed at the neighbors. Field was a passionate reader and writer himself. The poem lightly ridicules the notion that being intellectually curious is somehow dangerous or unmanly.
Field employs dactylic hexameter, the same meter found in Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, as well as Longfellow's Evangeline. This grand, flowing meter is linked to epic poetry, and Field intentionally uses it for comedic effect: the 'epic' subjects are a laid-back farm boy and a Kentucky witch. He even adds a humorous touch in the final lines, referring to it as his first and last attempt at this form.
The poem doesn't state it outright. He steps into the witch's fog and disappears. The legend suggests he was either transformed or taken, rather than killed immediately — the witch's revenge is directed at those who sought him, turning them into birds. Peter's fate remains intentionally unclear, aligning with the folk tale tradition where those who vanish remain lost.
It's a comic device taken directly from the tall tale tradition — the ridiculous buildup of details that says, 'this is a story, and we're all in on the joke.' It also grounds the poem in a particular place and community. Readers in Kentucky during Field's time would have known those names, which adds a touch of local humor.
The term used by Field in the community roll-call is a slur that many find deeply offensive today. It reveals the casual racism that was a part of mainstream white American culture in the 1880s. Looking at it now, it serves as a reminder that the poem's nostalgic Kentucky is also a place influenced by slavery and racial inequality — aspects that Field's comic tone completely overlooks.
No, there's no direct connection. The name Peter comes from the sound of the bird's call, not from any nursery rhyme tradition. The repeated calling of 'Peter!' does give it a nursery-rhyme-like feel, which fits Field's style — he was well-known for writing children's verse — but the poem is strong enough to stand alone as a folk-legend tall tale.