wood pewee.
From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.
THE WOOD PEWEE.
I am called the Wood Pewee, but I don’t always stay in the woods. If you have an orchard or a nice garden, you will hear me singing there in June.
People think I am not a happy bird, because my song seems so sad. They are very much mistaken. I am just as happy as any other little fellow dressed in feathers, and can flirt and flutter with the best of them.
Pewee! Pewee! Peer!
That is my song, and my mate thinks it is beautiful. She is never far away, and always comes at my call.
Always, did I say?
No; one day, when we were busy building our nest—which is very pretty, almost as dainty as that of our neighbor the Humming Bird—she flew away to quite a distance to find some soft lining-stuff on which to lay her eggs. I had been fetching and carrying all day the lichens to put round the nest, which was hidden among the thick leaves on the bough of a tree, and was resting by the side of it.
Pewee! Pewee! Peer!