Larks may be scarce, but we have plenty of flycatchers, and they all look very much alike. They are mostly in dull colors, and they have a way of raising the head feathers which gives them a little crest. Then they have rather thick necks, and they sit up very straight on the perch.

They catch living flies, as you see by the name, and they have their own way of doing it. No flycatcher ever scrambles around like a fussy little warbler, snatching a fly here and there. Far from it! It is a dignified family, and none of them ever seems to be in a hurry.

The true flycatcher way to get a dinner is to sit still and wait. The very babies in the nest are patient little fellows. They never make half the row over their dinner that young robins do. They could give lessons in table manners to some young folks I have seen. And waiting seems to be a good way, for nobody is better fed than a flycatcher.

On his perch the waiting bird sits perfectly still, but keeps a sharp lookout all around him. When a fly or other insect comes near that he thinks he will like, he dashes out and catches it as it flies. Then he goes back to his perch and waits for another.

Some of the family have the habit of singing as they wait. The wood pewee drawls out his sweet "pee-u-ee," the phoebe sings his sharp "phoe-be" by the hour, and the least flycatcher snaps out his "chebec" till we are tired of hearing him.

Flycatchers are classed among birds who do not sing, but several of them do sing,—not loud, like a robin, but low, quiet songs to the mate or the nestlings.

One of the best known of the flycatchers all over the country is the Kingbird. He is a little smaller than a robin, and all in brownish black, with white breast. He has also white tips to his tail feathers, which look very fine when he spreads it out wide in flying.

Among the head feathers of the kingbird is a small spot of orange color. This is called in the books a "concealed patch" because it is seldom seen, it is so hidden by the dark feathers.This bird does much good by eating many insects. It is often said that he eats bees. But a curious thing has been found out about this habit. It seems he has a choice in bees. He is fond of the drones which make no honey, and so are not useful in a hive. He will hunt drones all day, but he is shy of a honey bee. Do you know why? The bird has not told us, but we can guess that it is because the honey bee is armed with a sting, and can make it very uncomfortable for any bird who catches her.

There is another reason too why the bird may prefer the drone. The honey bee usually flies low, where the flowers are, while the drone isn't after flowers and flies higher in the air. The kingbird sits higher than the honey bee flies, and the drones are the ones that come near him.

Another insect that the kingbird is fond of is the robber fly, which destroys hundreds of honey bees. That should make every bee-keeper his friend.

These things have been found out in the way I told you, by shooting the birds to see what they had been eating.

Mr. Bryant, who knows birds well, tells of a bee-keeper in California who saw a great many kingbirds among his bees. Of course he thought they were eating them, and he killed one hundred of them. On looking into their stomachs to see if they had eaten honey bees, he found them filled with drones. They had been working for him all the time, for every bee-keeper likes to have drones killed.

It has been said that the kingbird is annoying to other birds, and he is called a tyrant. I wanted to know if this was true. I did not go to books to find out, for many people—as I have told you—do not study for themselves, but repeat what some one else has said. The way I took to find out was to notice the ways of every kingbird I could see. For many years I have watched them hours at a time, for weeks together. I spend every summer among the birds, and almost everywhere I go I find kingbirds.

In this way I have found out that the kingbird is one of the most peaceable of birds. He drives strangers away from the tree where his nest is, and so does every other bird. The crow he seems to consider his enemy, and often flies after him, but excepting that, I have never seen a kingbird disturb any bird who was minding his own business. He is not half so much of a tyrant as the robin or the hummingbird.

The kingbird is quiet and devoted to his family. He seems never to tire of catching insects. While young ones are in the nest, he may usually be seen from morning till night, sitting very straight upon a low perch, looking for flies of many kinds.

Let me tell you a little story of a kingbird which I can assure you is true, for a gentleman whose word may be relied upon saw it near enough to be perfectly sure of the facts.

A big bird, he did not notice what kind, was flying off with a nestling robin in his claws. All at once a kingbird flew at him so fiercely that he had to drop the young one to defend himself. The youngster could not fly, and of course began to fall. When the kingbird saw that, he left the thief and flew under the little bird. He held it up on his back, and flew carefully to the ground, where it slipped off safely.

When a kingbird has been tamed and kept in a house, he has been found to be a very knowing fellow. One that I heard of saw that the people were friendly, and he lost all fear of them. His greatest pleasure seemed to be to keep warm. He would cuddle up to a lighted lamp, and dearly liked to crawl under the bedclothes. This pet was quiet and dignified, never a chatterbox. The only sounds he made were a few low notes like thanks, when he was fed.

The nest of the kingbird is usually placed in a low tree like the apple-tree. It is made of anything that comes handy. I have seen one of white wool where sheep were kept, and one of gray moss on the seashore where it is found in plenty.

The Western kingbird differs in color from the Eastern. He is more gray, with under parts bright yellow. He is said to be more social and more noisy than the sober Eastern bird. But in other respects they are much alike.

This bird has been called quarrelsome, but persons who look closely at birds have said that what careless observers have called quarrels are really play. For the Western kingbird, the Arkansas Kingbird of the books, is a rather jolly fellow, says Major Bendire.

All flycatchers are useful and should be carefully protected, says the same well-informed writer.

The Wood Pewee is another common flycatcher. He is not generally seen about houses like the phoebe, who calls from the peak of the barn. He may be found in the orchard or the edge of the woods. There he will stand on a fence or low branch and sing or call by the hour, every few minutes flying out to catch a passing insect.

This bird is in dark colors, with whitish breast and two white wing-bars. His common call is a plaintive, long-drawn-out "pee-u-ee" and sometimes "pee-ay," but he can sing a droll little song. One lady who watched a wood pewee build her nest heard her sing to herself as she worked what sounded like "O-wee-wee-wee."

The nest made by this little mother is very pretty. It is most often on a dead limb where a branch starts out, making a broad foundation. For this reason the bird is called in the South, the dead-limb bird. The nests are not all alike. I have seen many closely covered with lichen, and some made of gray moss so thin that the eggs could be seen through it. Whatever it is made of, it is low and flat like a saucer, and so much like the branch it is on that it is not easy to see.

Like other bird mothers, the wood pewee is devoted to her nestlings. She will shield them from the rain by sitting close on the nest and making an umbrella of herself. And when the sun comes down very hot on them, she has been seen to perch on the edge of the nest and spread her wings to act as a shade for them. It is pretty to see this bird with her little family when they have left the nest and are being taught to take care of themselves. She makes many sweet little noises which sound like talk, or a sort of whispering.

The Western Wood Pewee looks like his Eastern brother, but he is a very different bird. His dress is about the same, and he catches his flies in pewee fashion, but his voice is not in the least like that we hear on the Atlantic side of the country.

The Eastern wood pewee has a low, sweet voice, of which one cannot get tired. But the bird of the West has loud, harsh notes, so dismal in tone that they are painful to listen to. His song is almost the only really unpleasant bird song I know.

The nest of this bird is a rather deep cup saddled on to a large limb. When it is in a cottonwood grove, it is covered with the sticky white cotton from the trees. It is very pretty when fresh, but it soon gets soiled, and then it is not nice to look at or to handle.