232 FROM MY WINDOW. 



points, and again I was convinced that he was 

 not a cowbird baby. 



The curious antics of a solemn kingbird, 

 who did not suspect his hidden observer, were 

 droll to look upon. He seemed to be alone on 

 the fence, though some silent spectator may have 

 been hidden behind the leaves. He mounted 

 suddenly straight up in the air, with cries, 

 twenty feet or more, then soared down with a 

 beautiful display of his plumage. This he did 

 many times in succession, with an indescribably 

 conscious air, and at last he dropped behind 

 some tall grass in the pasture. It looked ex- 

 ceedingly like •showing off," and who could 

 imagine a kingbird in that role ! 



But all flourishes were over when, somewhat 

 later, he brought his lovely little family of three 

 to the fence to be treated to berries. It was in- 

 teresting to see a flycatcher take his fruit "on 

 the wing," as it were; that is, fly at it, seize it, 

 and jerk it off without alighting. The phoebe 

 picked berries in the same way, when he occa- 

 sionally condescended to investigate the attrac- 

 tion that brought so many strangers into his 

 quiet corner. 



The young kingbirds were sweet and chatty 

 among themselves, and they decidedly approved 

 the berries; but they never lost sight of each 

 other, and kept close together, the little com- 



