FLYCATCHEES. 287 



rendered firm by mud, to which are added various materials, 

 of which the most conspicuous is generally moss ; and it is 

 commonly lined with horsehairs. The eggs of each set are 

 usually five, average about .75 X -57 of an inch, and are pure 

 white (rarely spotted?). Near Boston, one set is generally 

 laid in the first or second week of May, and another in June. 

 I have known a pair, who built in a shed partly surrounded 

 by glass, to raise three broods in one season, of which the 

 first was hatched about the fifth of May. An egg from the 

 third set measures .65 X -50 of an inch, or less. 



c. There are few birds dearer to an ornithologist than the 

 Pewee, and no birds are better entitled to the affection of a 

 friend, if usefulness, cheerfulness, familiarity towards man, 

 and charm of manner, deserve our regard. In fact no bird 

 is more home-like than this species, who is almost the first to 

 announce spring at our very doors, and who is the foremost 

 to establish his home where we have established ours, and 

 who returns persistently, if unmolested, to the same shed or 

 barn, year after year. Audubon even proved in one case that 

 the young returned with their parents, thus increasing the 

 little colony which already existed on his plantation. No bird 

 is more peaceable or less jealous than the Pewee, who looks 

 hospitably upon all his neighbors, and it is common to find 

 several pairs on the same estate, living in happiness and 

 peace. 



As I sit down to write out of doors, I find that my at- 

 tention is but little confined to my biographical labors. I 

 have placed in the shrubbery around the piazza several 

 bits of cotton- wool, which readily attract the attention of 

 the various birds who are now building. A male Eedstart 

 is singing in the oak on the bank, while his mate cautiously 

 approaches a vine, from which my chair is scarcely a yard 

 distant, and, seizing several shreds of the wool, flies off. 

 Eager to discover her home, just as I have already discov- 

 ered those of nearly all her friends (and mine too), I step 

 on the lawn to watch her motions. She flies to the nearest 

 group of trees and disappears, while I fix my eyes upon the 

 cotton- wool, to watch her return ; but, when some sound 



