^54 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



' ** cept that it is useful a kind of virtue that gets its 

 \ chief reward in heaven. I am acquainted with only 

 of the other nine Eastern members, crested 

 flycatcher, kingbird, wood pewee, and chebec, and 

 /*. |? each of these has some redeeming attribute besides 

 the habit of catching flies. 



They are all good nest-builders, good parents, and . 

 brave, independent birds ; but aside from phoebe and 

 pewee the latter in his small way the sweetest 

 voice of the oak woods the whole family is an odd 

 lot, cross-grained, cross-looking, and about as musical 

 as a family of ducks. A duck seems to know that 

 he cannot sing. A flycatcher knows nothing of his 

 shortcomings. He believes he can sing, and in time 

 he will prove it. If desire and effort count for any- 

 thing, he certainly must prove it in time. How long 

 the family has already been training, no one knows. 

 Everybody knows, however, the success each fly- 

 catcher of them has thus far attained. It would 

 make a good minstrel show, doubtless, if the family 

 would appear together. In chorus, surely, they would 

 r&vTj be far from a tuneful choir. Yet individually, in 

 ^ , the wide universal chorus of the out-of-doors, how 

 . ' much we should miss the kingbird's metallic twitter 



and the chebec's insistent call ! 



\ There was little excitement for phoebe during this 

 period of incubation. He hunted in the neighborhood 

 and occasionally called to his mate, contented enough 

 but certainly sometimes appearing tired. 





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