DROLL ANTICS OF A PHOSBE. 225 



no phcebe of spirit will tolerate in silence an- 

 other of his kind near him. Sparrows of all 

 sorts might come about ; j uncos and chickadees, 

 thrushes and warblers, might alight on his 

 chosen tree, rarely a word would he say ; but 

 let a phcebe appear, and there began at once a 

 war of words. It might be mere friendly talk, 

 but it sounded very much like vituperation and 

 "calling names," and I noticed that it ended in 

 a chase and the disappearance of one of them. 



Again, whenever a phoebe alighted on the 

 fence he made a low but distinct remark that 

 sounded marvelously like "cheese-it," and sev- 

 eral times the mysterious bird treated me to a 

 very singular performance. He hovered like a 

 humming-bird close before a nest, looking into 

 it and uttering a loud strange cry, like the last 

 note of "phoebe" repeated rapidly, as "be-be- 

 be." Was it derision, complaint, or a mere 

 neighborly call? This was not for the benefit 

 of his own family, for he did it before the 

 robin's nest. I thought at first he meant mis- 

 chief to the young robins, but although he ap- 

 proached very near he did not actually touch 

 them. 



The loudest note this bird uttered was, of 

 course, his well-known "phoebe," which he de- 

 livered from the peak of the barn (never from 

 the dead tree) with an emphasis that proclaimed 



