File:How to have bird neighbors (1917) (14564181880).jpg

Identifier: howtohavebirdnei00patt (find matches)
Title: How to have bird neighbors
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Patteson, S. Louise (Susanna Louise), 1853-1922
Subjects: Birds
Publisher: Boston, New York (etc.) D.C. Heath and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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e birds I hummed the bird songagain, to let them know that the same persons werethere that had visited them before. The motherbird was looking straight at us and sitting perfectlystill all the while. The boy said he believed the songdid help to keep her quiet. On a cornice of the front porch a phoebe had madetwo nests, one last year and one this. Both nestswere now empty. I said I hoped that a phoebewould come to live on our porch next year. ^You can have this one, answered the boy; andadded, *I have to wash off the porch every daywhile Phoebe is nesting: she scatters so muchmud. As for me, I would gladly clean oflP our porchseveral times a day if a phoebe would nest here andsing as sweetly, *Phoebe, phoebe, as I heard thatone sing. Sometimes I noticed a slight trill in thesecond syllable of her song, like Phoebery. She 98 HOW TO HAVE BIRD NEIGHBORS sang Phoebe with the inflection generally down-ward; but when she trilled it, Phoebery/ the in-flection was always upwards: ry. be- Phoe-
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BOB WHITE S SHELTER ee Te^ e- e- e- a- e- wee- came up from the ravine, clear as a strain from aflute. On my way home I saw the pewee on a fencepicket. Every little while he flew after an insect, MORE ABOUT THE BOY 99 then back to a picket. As I walked slowly along,he flew from picket to picket ahead of me, until Icame to where the houses on the street begin again.Then he flew back. I think that pewee and phoebemust be some relation, they look so nearly alike.And both sing their own names. Another bird who sings his name is Bob White,the quail. Bob WkiteV came ringing across themeadow every little while. The boy could whistle itexactly the same as the bird, and they answered eachother back and forth. Bob White was on a fencepost, — a large brown bird with a stubby tail. On Thanksgiving Day I was up at the farm again,and I saw a shelter which the boy had made for thewinter comfort of Bob White, and other birds whowished to share it. It was tent-like, made out ofcornstalks, the inside

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