THE FLYCATCHERS 145 



Doubtless this (Jpinure, gentle little cousin of the noisy, 

 aggressive, crested flycatcher has no secret sorrow preying 

 at its heart, but the tender pathos of the long-drawn notes 

 Pee-e-wee, Pee-e-wee would seem to indicate that it is 

 rather melancholy. And it sings out its name (in spite of 

 the books which teach us that the flycatchers are "song- 

 less, perching birds") from the time of its arrival from Cen- 

 tral America in May until only the tireless indigo bunting 

 and the red-eyed vireo are left in the choir in August. 



But how suddenly its melancholy langour departs the in- 

 stant an insect flies within sight ! With a cheerful, sudden 

 sally in mid-air, it snaps up the luscious bite, for it can be 

 quite as active as any of the family. While not so ready 

 to be neighborly as the phoebe,the woodpewee condescends 

 to visit our orchards and shade trees. 



When nesting time comes, it looks for a partly decayed, 

 lichen-covered branch, and onto this saddles a compact, 

 exquisite cradle of fine grass, moss, and shreds of bark, 

 binding bits of hchen with spiders' web to the outside until 

 the sharpest of eyes are needed to tell the stuccoed nest 

 from the limb it rests on. Only the tiny humming-bird, 

 who also uses hchen as a protective and decorative device, 

 conceals her nest so successfully. 



The Least Flycatcher 



It is not until he calls out his name, Chehecl Chebecl in 

 clear and business-like tones from some tree-top that you 

 could identify this fluffy flycatcher, scarcely more than 

 five inches long, whose dusky coat and hght vest offer no 

 helpful markings. Not a single gay feather reUeves his 

 sombre suit — a queer, Quakerly taste for a bird that spends 



