in the branches of the tree above him. "Whee-ree, whee-ree," sounded a
mocking; voice, that made little Luke think that somebody was making fun
of him. He looked up and saw Kit-chee the Great Crested Flycatcher.

"Ah-ha!" said Kit-chee; "so she scared you, did she?"

The little boy moved his hand toward the hole.

"Better not; better not," said Kit-chee; "that's Mother Kit-chee in
there. She doesn't like to be disturbed, and she has a temper of her
own, and a sharp bill to go with it."

"Excuse me, Father Kit-chee," said the little boy; "I didn't know. I
only wanted to see what was in that hole."

"All right," said Kit-chee. "We don't mind you. Perhaps, if you ask her
politely, she'll come out and let you take a peep."

"Pray, Mother Kit-chee," said the little boy, "aren't you hungry? There
are some nice flies and bugs out here, and besides, if you will be kind
enough to allow me, I should like a peep at your nest and eggs."

"Oh, very well," answered Mother Kit-chee, "I'll do anything to oblige
you, when you speak in that way." And out she came.

Both Father Kit-chee and Mother Kit-chee were rather handsome, dignified
birds. They each wore a coat of butternut brown, mixed with olive green,
and a vest pearl gray toward the throat and yellow lower down.

"Thank you," said the little boy to Mother Kit-chee as she came out,