FIELD AND STUDY 



big, fat grasshoppers. It was a pretty sight and un- 

 usual, as I have witnessed it only once in my life. 



Our birds often differ in their habits much more 

 than in their forms and colors. We have two fly- 

 catchers singularly alike in general appearance — 

 namely, the phoebe-bird and the wood pewee — 

 which differ widely in their habits of life. The phoebe 

 is the better known because she haunts our porches 

 and sheds and bridges, and not infrequently makes 

 herself a nuisance from the vermin with which her 

 nest, especially her midsummer nest, often swarms. 

 She is an early-spring bird, and her late March or 

 early April call, repeating over and over the name 

 by which she is known, is a sound that every coun- 

 try boy delights in. The wood pewee is a little less 

 in size, but in form and color and manners is almost 

 the duplicate of phoebe. She is a much later arrival, 

 and need not be looked for till the trees begin to 

 turn over their new leaves. Then you may hear her 

 tender, plaintive cry amid the forest branches — 

 also a repetition of her own name, but with a sylvan 

 cadence and tenderness peculiarly its own. It differs 

 from the phoebe's note just as the leafy solitudes of 

 the woods differ from the strong, open light and the 

 fence-stakes and ridge-boards where the phoebe 

 loves to perch. It is the voice or cry of a lonely, 

 yearning spirit, attuned to great sweetness and 

 tenderness. The phoebe has not arrested the atten- 

 tion of any of our poets, but the pewee has inspired 



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