THE PEWEE SONG. 71 



voice, but so low it could not be heard a dozen 

 feet away. There was little variation in the 

 tones, but it was rapidly delivered, with longer 

 and shorter intervals and varying inflections, a 

 genuine whisper-song such as most birds that 

 I have studied delight in. It did not please 

 madam, his mate; she listened, looked, and 

 then rushed at the singer, and I regret to say, 

 they fell into a "scrimmage " in the grass, quite 

 after the vulgar manner of the sparrow. 



They soon returned to their duty of feeding 

 the baby behind the oak leaf screen. Both 

 came very nearly at the same time; each one 

 on arriving, administered a significant "poke'* 

 behind the leaf, then indulged in several eccen- 

 tric movements in their jerky style, dashed after 

 a fly, stood a full minute staring at me, and at 

 last flew. This programme was scarcely varied. 

 Inoffensive as I was, however, the birds plainly 

 did not relish my spying upon them, and when 

 I returned from luncheon, they had removed 

 their infant. For a day or two, I heard on the 

 farther side of the grove the sweet, mournful 

 "pe-o-wee" with which this bird proclaims the 

 passage of another insect to its fate, and then it 

 was gone, and I saw and heard them no more. 



One morning I rose at dawn and seated my- 

 self behind my blind to spy upon the doings of 

 the early risers. On this particular morning I 



