PHQEBES AND THEIR COUSINS 
that day, but by short fluttering flights evi- 
dently managed to fill her beak and keep 
the nestlings fed. Whenever she left them 
the father called ‘ Phoebe, Phoebe,” with 
greater energy than ever. At length, with- 
out any warning apparent to my dull ears, 
one of the young birds decided to fly. He 
stood up, quivered his wings a brief moment, 
and plunged headlong out with blind flutter- 
ing. In some way the father was under 
him as soon as he started, and together they 
landed in the projecting branches of a tree 
half-way down the bluff. As soon as this 
youngster was safely settled, back flew the 
little father to the one left on the beam, fed 
him, and coaxed him to fly. He had already 
sat there twenty-four hours, and needed 
little coaxing to leave. The family was 
divided, the first two going with the father 
and the three in the nest being cared for 
entirely by the mother. In two days more 
they had flown also, and the pretty home 
was deserted. 
The wood pewee seems to me like the 
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