40 BIRDS OF THE WEST 



imagine that the little mother had been killed and that her mate 

 who without promising to do it loves and cherishes her until death 

 parts them, is sadly calling for her. Every springtime the hus- 

 band comes north two weeks before his wife to look up a location 

 or to busy himself around the old home ; then he will sit for hours 

 and call * ' Phoebe ! Phoebe ! Phoebe ! ' ' drooping his tail and crying 

 as though he were nearly dead from loneliness. What he lives on at 

 that time is hard to tell, for his chosen insect food is still unhatched. 

 You may be sure that all of the flycatchers pay their way and are 

 worth their pay. 



Once I saw a hunter level his gun at a phoebe as he sat upon 

 a willow branch calling his mate; I saw it fall and as I rushed to 

 take it in my hand I found it only wounded. 



And oh, the silken jacket, 



And the little yellow vest, 



And oh, the little throbbing heart, 



And oh, oh, all the rest, 



And the little eyes that sparkled 



As I took him in my hand, 



And I fear he thought I did it 



For he didn't understand. 



