PROFESSIONAL FLY-CATCHING 



insects in such cold weather. Yet notice on the sunny 

 side of the building, when the sun shines brightly, how 

 many flies are buzzing about, which proves that there 

 are flies, if one only knows where to look for them, and 

 surely our professional fly-catcher knows that much. 

 But if anyone claims to have heard a Phoebe back in 

 mid-winter, do not believe it, for the Chickadee makes a 

 "pewee" note, and many are the people who are fooled 

 and publish their mistake in the local paper. We are 

 safe to assume that, no flies, no Phoebes. 



The hardy bird has its nest built some time in the 

 latter half of April, according to the sort of season that 

 prevails, and lays five white eggs, sometimes sparsely 

 spotted. Before the country was settled, the usual 

 nesting place was under an overhanging rock, and even 

 now some of them keep up the old custom. I have 

 discovered a number of such, and Ned found one close 

 by where I was photographing the nest of another bird, 

 a little way below the foot of a beautiful waterfall. 



For the past three years a pair of Phoebes have 

 nested in my barn, and reared two broods of young 

 each season — six broods in all, laying five eggs the first 

 time, and four the second, and usually hatching and 

 rearing them all, or all but one. The nest was on the 

 projecting end of a board nailed across two ceiling 

 beams, just over where I drove in with the horse and 

 buggy. Each year the Phoebe found the old nest all 

 right, so she used it five times in succession, but this 

 last time she built another nest at the other end of the 



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