When we see gnats or small insects in the air we may expect the phoebe.  The phoebe belongs to the family of flycatchers.  He spends his life in man’s service, catching the insects which are so troublesome.

When the first insects appear the phoebe comes to prevent them from growing too numerous.  You will know the phoebe by his note.  “Pewit-phoebe!” he calls, with a wag of his tail, as he sits on a fence or bridge rail.

If the frost has left the ground, you may be sure that the woodcock has come.  The woodcock has a bill nearly three inches long.  He sticks it into the soft earth to hunt for the worms on which he lives.  So you see if the ground were hard the woodcock could not get his usual fare.

For the same reason the kingfisher waits until the ice has left the ponds and streams.  Then we can hear him sound his rattle-like voice and watch him fishing.  What a sure aim he has!  See him hovering over the water, waiting for some small fish to come near the surface!  Then he closes his wings and plunges downward like a dart.  There is a splash, and a second later he flies up with his prize.

Early in April the chippy comes.  He has not much of a song, but we are always glad to see him because he seems glad to see us.  He comes to the piazza steps, plainly asking for crumbs.  If we give them to him, he may build his hair-lined nest in the vine on the trellis.

Some day later in the month the barn swallow may be seen flitting in and out the barn door or hay window, twittering merrily.  He has seen many countries since he left us last October.  Probably he has been to Central America, or even Brazil.  But in all his travels I am sure he has visited no place he loves as well as the old barn.

The chimney swift loves his chimney, too.  Let us hope that when he returns early in May he will not find smoke curling from his home.

Each day now brings a host of the little feathered travelers.  In February and March we cannot tell just what day to look for our bird friends.  If it is cold and bleak, they must wait for warmer weather.  In May, when the sun shines brightly, and the season of storms has passed, we know almost exactly when to expect each bird.

About the first of the month we shall again be cheered by the songs of the catbird and wren.  From a tree-top near the roadside a brown thrasher will sing a song of rejoicing.  In the woods the wood thrush will chant a hymn of praise.

The ground is carpeted with wild flowers, and we may gather the beautiful anemones, violets, and buttercups.  The trees are putting on their dresses of green.  The air rings with the joyful music of birds.  Now we know that the song of the robin was true.

BIRDS’ HOMES.

Nearly every bird has a trade.  Some are carpenters, others are masons, weavers, tailors, basket-makers, etc.  It is only when building their homes that birds work at their trades.