The Say Phoebe 
since misery loves company, she ven- 
tures upon some half-deserted 
town-site, and voices in unexpectant 
cadences the universal yearning for 
green things and cessation of wind. 
Or, better still, she attaches herself 
for the season to some farmhouse, 
culls wintry flies, and roosts discon¬ 
solate in the shelter of a cornice— 
choooory — choooory — knteew. 
Say’s Pewee, for all its depressed 
spirits, is an active bird. Taking 
station on a fence-post or weed- 
stalk, it waits for passing insects, 
and sallies out after them with good 
form and despatch. If local trade 
is dull, the bird makes fluttering 
excursions over the field, snapping 
right and left at humble quarry, and 
returning to jet the tail and render 
mournful thanks. Insects con¬ 
stitute the bird’s exclusive diet, save 
in winter, when, under the spell of 
adverse weather, dried berries and 
seeds are sometimes taken. Flies, 
butterflies, moths, wasps, and the 
smaller wild bees (not the honey 
bee), are the staples of diet; but 
beetles, and especially ground beetles, 
are largely sought. This flycatcher, 
therefore, more than any other, lights 
upon the ground to seize its prey, 
or else hovers aloft in an attitude of critical inspection. Say’s Phoebe, 
in common with a few other flycatchers, has the power of ejecting 
indigestible elytra and leg-sheathings in the form of pellets. 
In their winter haunts in the southern lowlands, these birds are 
quite solitary. The males appear to depart in spring some days in 
advance of the females, for no better reason, perhaps, than that the 
reproductive instinct first excites the masculine imagination. Courtship 
is an animated affair in spite of the melancholy proclivities of the bird; 
and the male achieves a sort of song by repeating ku-tew's rapidly, on 
fluttering wing. Besides this, in moments of excitement, both birds 
Taken in Kern County Photo by the Author 
WATCHING THE PHOTOGRAPHER 
AS HE TAKES THE PRECEDING VIEW 
876 
