CHAPTER VIII 



PROFESSIONAL FLY-CATCHING 



{The Flycatchers) 



ONE day I had a fine reward for giving a little girl 

 a ride in my buggy. She was trudging to her 

 home over a rnile away, so, as I overtook her, 

 I stopped and let her get in. "Have you seen the bird's 

 nest on top of the post.?" was about the first thing she 

 said. "No, where is it.?" I inquired. "Just on beyond 

 here," she replied, "I'll show you when we come to it." 

 "There she is on the nest!" presently exclaimed the 

 child. Sure enough, there sat a bird flat on top of one 

 of the posts of the wire fence which separated the high- 

 way from the railway track. As w^e came nearer I saw 

 it was a Kingbird. I slowed the horse down to a walk, 

 and watched to see how near the bird would let us come. 

 The country road was very narrow, and when we were 

 opposite the devoted little mother she was just about 

 within arm's reach, yet there she sat. I stopped the 

 horse, and then she flew up on the telegraph wires over- 

 head, where she expressed noisily her disapproval of 

 my loitering on her premises. She did not mind, the 

 little girl said, if people went along past and attended to 



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