PROFESSIONAL FLY-CATCHIXG 



barn in a similar situation. At first I wondered why 

 she deserted such a nice nest, but I found out. One 

 day I put my hand into the new nest to see how many 

 young there were, and presently I began to scratch my 

 head. Oh, how I did itch all that night! My sus- 

 picions were aroused, so I touched the young again, 

 and looked at my hand. A whole army of lice were 

 hurrying to run up my sleeve and I fled to the water 

 faucet and put a stop to the migration. Ned does not 

 see how the young can stand it, and neither do I. 



We both photographed the Phoebe bird on the nest. 

 The way I did it was to bring three barrels nearly 

 under the nest and set up the tripod with full extension, 

 so that the camera was away up to the ceiling. Stand- 

 ing on a step ladder, I could focus on the sitting bird, 

 but the light was so dim that I had to set up a large 

 mirror outdoors and throw a sunbeam on the nest. 

 Then I could make short exposures on her, or remove 

 the mirror and make the exposure last two minutes. 

 The dear little bird sat perfectly still, and I had the best 

 results the latter way; the picture was not so harsh. 



In the early spring, this last season, soon after the 

 Phoebes arrived, a sad accident occurred. It was a 

 windy day and I saw the barn door slam violently. 

 I was minded to go and prop it, but kept on and did 

 not. Later in the afternoon a member of my family 

 brought in the dead body of the male Phoebe, still 

 warm, with his neck broken. The little fellow had 

 alighted on the door, and it caught him as it slammed. 



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