136 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



one of whom had the most curious habit. He 

 would go in through the hole with material for the 

 nest, and presently, as I would be working in the 

 garden, I would hear a tremendous drumming as 

 if a small boy were beating a dishpan. It was the 

 nicker, on the inside of the tree, banging away at 

 the tin cap. Whether he wanted to let in more 

 light to the nest or whether he merely did it for 

 amusement I cannot say ; but sometimes the racket 

 would be kept up for fifteen minutes on a stretch. 

 It was impossible to look into this nest, and we 

 never saw the young birds, which, if hatched suc- 

 cessfully, got out while we were away from home. 



The least flycatcher, or chebec, as it is sometimes 

 called on account of its reiterated, almost metallic, 

 and nerve-racking pair of notes, makes a cunning 

 little nest, usually on top of a crotch on an apple- 

 tree, or even saddled on the straight limb. It is a 

 tame little bird. I recall in my boyhood one nest 

 that was on a limb not over seven feet from the 

 ground, and the mother grew so tame she would 

 remain on the eggs while we pulled the limb down 

 level with our face and looked at her. In this way 

 we saw the little birds during all the periods of their 

 nest life, and watched them grow. To see their 

 yawning little cavities of mouths open as we chil- 

 dren poked our faces to the nest was a rare delight. 

 I have taken less delight in the least flycatcher in 

 recent years, since a pair built close to our sleeping- 

 porch and began to reiterate che-bec, che-bec, every 

 morning at about three-thirty! 



If you have ever set out deliberately to find a 

 ruby- throated humming-bird's nest, and have sue- 



