who often builds its nest in our out-houses, under verandas and porticos, etc., returning 

 year after year to the same old spot, announcing as one of the first harbingers of 

 spring the arrival of the vernal season. In the days of my youth it was always one of 

 the first birds, who cheered my heart at the approach of spring, its characteristic 

 plaintive notes sounding through the lifeless landscape long before the last traces of 

 winter had vanished. These sweet and rather melancholic sounds are a sure sign of the 

 approach of the most hilarious and charming season of the year. In my native State 

 I have always noticed the arrival of the Phcebe shortly after Robin, Bluebird, and 

 Song Sparrow had returned from the South, usually in the last days of March or early 

 in April. Cold weather and heavy snowfalls are not infrequent at this time of the»year. 

 Being almost exclusively an insectivorous bird, it often sufFei's severely during continuous 

 cold and w^intry w^eather. 



Soon after its arrival we observe the bird perched on the top of a bam or 

 stable, on a telegraph or fence post or on a dry projecting branch, uttering at short 

 intervals almost incessantly its rather loud and peculiar notes. The common note, 

 rather loud and plaintive and sounding like phebe, pbebe, or pewee, pewee, sometimes 

 more plaintive like pe-wait, pe-wait, is most frequently heard. These sounds vary not 

 unfi-equently and are often less energetic, being soft and twittering and, though very 

 pleasant, have a slightly melancholy touch. We may often hear a somewhat subdued 

 pe-way-ee, and a song-like phe-be, phe-bee-ee. All these notes are very impressive, and 

 once heard, cannot be forgotten. They are uttered with more force and frequency in 

 early spring, though they are heard throughout the bird's residence north. It usually 

 has a favorite perch, often the top of a bam, "in which it remains all moming', watching 

 for insects and continually repeating its simple song." As it sits, it occasionally flirts 

 its tail, and darts out after each passing insect, always returning to the same projecting 

 branch or post. When the young are hatched, the Phoebes become more silent, as they 

 rarely find time to repeat their own names, and later, in the time of moulting, they are 

 almost perfectly songless. While spending the winter in the southern gardens, their 

 plaintive phe-be and pe-wait is almost constantly heard during fine weather. They prefer 

 to perch in the top of a magnolia or a large bush, and often in the arching firond of a 

 palm, where they are watching for insects. 



Originally breeding on faces of perpendicular rocks, the Phoebe has changed its 

 mode of nesting entirely in regions where the land has been settled. We i-arely find it 

 at present far from human habitations. The social and familiar habits of this plainly 

 colored, modest, and gentle little bird, as well as its confiding trust in man must ever 

 secure for it our affections, and entitle it and its beautiful little nest to our earnest and 

 jealous protection. This bird is always found where flying insects abound. We therefore 

 find it either near water or in the vicinity of man. It preferably selects its haunts near 

 or in the barn-yard, where in the neighborhood of cattle there is always an abundant 

 supply of flying insects. 



The beautiful moss-covered nest of the Phoebe is familiar to me since my early 

 boyhood. The first one I found under a bridge in the country road. Ever since that 

 time I have been a friend and admirer of this common and half-domesticated bird. 

 Other nests were found in old block-houses and burns, in stables, under piazzas and 



