THE PHOEBE

(THE WATER PEWEE)

“Smaller, but not a whit less active than the Kingbird is the Phoebe or Water Pewee—­the small Flycatcher who is almost as familiar about the farm and roadside as the Robin himself.  Look about the woodshed or cow-shed.  Is there a beam or little nook of any sort that will hold a nest?  If so, in early May you will see a pair of nervous brown birds, heaping up a mound of moss and mud.  When they have made it large enough to suit them, they line it with soft grass and horsehairs; the nest is then ready for the white eggs, which once in a while are varied with a few brown spots.

[Illustration:  Phoebe.]

“Sometimes Phoebes build under a bridge, or in a rocky pocket above a stream; for they love water and are great bathers.  Then they make the outside of the nest to match the rock by covering it with lichens.

“The Phoebe, like all other Flycatchers, sits motionless upon a dead twig, fence rail, or often the clothesline, waiting for insects to come by.  Then he darts out, seizes one, and returns to the same perch, flipping the tail, raising the little crest, and calling ‘Phoebe—­p-h-o-e-b-e,’ in a very anxious voice.

“Phoebe is a hardy Flycatcher, who journeys north in March to tell us spring is coming, and it takes a hard frost to send him away again.  Even then he does not hurry off toward the tropics like the ardent Kingbird, but lingers all winter in the Southern States.”

The Phoebe

Length seven inches.  Wings hardly any longer than the tail.

Upper parts deep olive-brown, darkest on the head; bill and feet black.

Under parts dull white, with a grayish or yellowish tinge.

A Citizen of North America east of the plains and north to Canada, nesting from South Carolina northward, and wintering in the Southern States.

A useful and pleasant neighbor, who likes our society, often nesting in sheds and under porches.

A member of the guild of Sky Sweepers, who also works with the Tree Trappers.

THE WOOD PEWEE

“Among all the other Flycatchers, big, little, and least, I can only tell you of one more, and will choose the Wood Pewee as being the one most likely to interest you.

“This morning in the wood lane I saw a pair that were surely nest-building, and I wondered if they were not the great-great-grandchildren of those who lived there when I was a boy.  The Pewee’s nest is very pretty—­almost as dainty as the Hummingbird’s.  I will try to find it for you as we go back this afternoon.”

“Then the Wood Pewee builds late, like the Cedar Waxwing and Goldfinch?” said Rap.  “Yes, rather late; about the first or second week in June.  He is a lazy traveller; and then, perhaps, he thinks his nest is so frail that he needs to have the trees in full leaf to protect it.  The Wood Pewee takes his name from his liking for the woods and his call-note; yet he is quite as fond of our Orchard and the lower side of the garden.