274 EIVEEBY 



tree. This is by no means a common bird, and as 

 it destroys many noxious insects I look upon it with 

 a friendly eye, though it is the most uncouth and 

 unmusical of the flycatchers. Indeed, among the 

 other birds of the garden and orchard it seems quite 

 like a barbarian. It has a harsh, froglike scream, 

 form and manners to suit, and is clad in a suit of 

 butternut brown. It seeks a cast-off snakeskin to 

 weave into its nest, and not finding one, wiU take 

 an onion skin, a piece of oiled paper, or large fish 

 scales. It builds in a cavity in a tree, rears one 

 brood, and is off early in the season. I never see 

 or hear it after August 1st. 



A pair have built in a large, hollow limb in my 

 old apple-tree for many years. Whether it is the 

 same pair or not I do not know. Probably it is, 

 or else some of their descendants. I looked into the 

 cavity one day while the mother bird was upon the 

 nest, but before she had laid any eggs. A sudden 

 explosive sound came up out of the dark depths of 

 the limb, much like that made by an alarmed cat. 

 It made me jerk my head back, when out came the 

 bird and hurried off. For several days I saw no 

 more of the pair, and feared they had deserted the 

 spot. But they had not; they were only more sly 

 than usual. I soon discovered an egg in the nest, 

 and then another and another. 



One day, as I stood near by, a male bluebird came 

 along with his mate, prospecting for a spot for a 

 second nest. He alighted at the entrance of this 

 hole and peeped in. Instantly the flycatcher was 



