An Old Friend in a New Home 



white. He sat with his tail hanging straight down, 

 as if he hadn't strength enough to hold it up. 



"Hello, Dear Me!" cried Peter joyously. 

 "What are you doing way down here? I haven't 

 seen you since you first arrived, just after Win- 

 some Bluebird got here." Peter started to say 

 that he had wondered what had become of Dear 

 Me, but checked himself, for Peter is very honest 

 and he realized now that in the excitement of 

 greeting so many friends he hadn't missed Dear 

 Me at aU. 



Dear Me the Phcebe did not reply at once, 

 but darted out into the air, and Peter heard a 

 sharp click of that little black bill. Making a 

 short circle, Dear Me alighted on the mullein 

 stalk again. 



"Did you catch a fly then ?" asked Peter. 



"Dear me! Dear me! Of course I did," was 

 the prompt reply. And with each word there was 

 a jerk of that long hanging tail. Peter almost 

 wondered if in some way Dear Me's tongue and 

 tail were connected. "I suppose," said he, "that 

 it is the habit of catching flies and bugs in the air 

 that has given your family the name of Fly- 

 catchers." 



Dear Me nodded and almost at once started 

 into the air again. Once more Peter heard the 

 click of that little black bill, then Dear Me was 

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