"Chirrup" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the kettle; (size! you couldn't see it!) that if it had then and there burst itself like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its ...
— The Cricket on the Hearth • Charles Dickens
... awfu' stock, Tobacco, wreetin' paper, rock, A' kin' o' wersh tongue-twistin' drinks, A' kin' o' Oriental stinks, The best cod liver ile emulsions, Wee poothers that could cure convulsions, Famed Peter Puffer's soothin' syrup, An' stuff to gar canaries chirrup. He'd toothache tinctur's, cures for corns, Pomades to gar hair grow on horns, He'd stuff for healin' beelin' lugs, He'd stuff for suffocatin' bugs, He'd stuff for feshin' up your denners, Against your wull an' a' gude menners, A' kin' o' queer cahoochy goods To suit ...
— The Auld Doctor and other Poems and Songs in Scots • David Rorie
... sun had thawed the surface slightly, and then it had frozen in a glittering smooth crust. It was still outside as only leafless winter can be, when there are no wings to flutter, or streams to trickle, or chirrup of insects to break the calm. Not a footfall, not a sleigh bell; not another light in sight, but only the moon. Anybody in the road might have seen another light,—that which came from Dolly's windows. She had been hard to suit about her arrangements; she would not have candles lit, ...
— The End of a Coil • Susan Warner
... Nothing. He is well and has a right to chirrup and ruffle his wings; but I am ill and must die—that's all. It's not worth while to say more about it. And tearful invocations to nature are mortally absurd. Let us get ...
— The Diary of a Superfluous Man and Other Stories • Ivan Turgenev
... bunting, the real snowbird, with plumage copied from the fields where the drifts hide all but the tops of the tallest weeds,—large spaces of pure white touched here and there with black and gray and brown. Its twittering call and chirrup coming out of the white obscurity is the sweetest and happiest of all winter bird sounds. It is like the laughter of children. The fox-hunter hears it on the snowy hills, the farmer hears it when he goes to fodder his cattle from the distant stack, the country schoolboy hears it as he breaks ...
— The Wit of a Duck and Other Papers • John Burroughs
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