names. But none, not even Bully the English Sparrow, was
brave enough to join him in attacking big Redtail.

When he had succeeded in driving Redtail far enough from the Old Orchard
to suit him, Scrapper flew back and perched on a dead branch of one of
the trees, where he received the congratulations of all his feathered
neighbors. He took them quite modestly, assuring them that he had done
nothing, nothing at all, but that he didn't intend to have any of the
Hawk family around the Old Orchard while he lived there. Peter couldn't
help but admire Scrapper for his courage.

As Peter looked up at Scrapper he saw that, like all the rest of the
flycatchers, there was just the tiniest of hooks on the end of his bill.
Scrapper's slightly raised cap seemed all black, but if Peter could have
gotten close enough, he would have found that hidden in it was a patch
of orange-red. While Peter sat staring up at him Scrapper suddenly
darted out into the air, and his bill snapped in quite the same way
Chebec's did when he caught a fly. But it wasn't a fly that Scrapper
had. It was a bee. Peter saw it very distinctly just as Scrapper snapped
it up. It reminded Peter that he had often heard Scrapper called the Bee
Martin, and now he understood why.

"Do you live on bees altogether?" asked Peter.

"Bless your heart, Peter, no," replied Scrapper with a chuckle. "There
wouldn't be any honey if I did. I like bees. I like them first rate. But
they form only a very small part of my food. Those that I do catch are
mostly drones, and you know the drones are useless. They do no work at
all. It is only by accident that I now and then catch a worker. I eat
all kinds of insects that fly and some that don't. I'm one of Farmer
Brown's best friends, if he did but know it. You can talk all you please
about the wonderful eyesight of the members of the Hawk family, but if
any one of them has better eyesight than I have, I'd like to know who it
is. There's a fly 'way over there beyond that old apple-tree; watch me
catch it."

Peter knew better than to waste any effort trying to see that fly. He
knew that he couldn't have seen it had it been only one fourth that
distance away. But if he couldn't see the fly he could hear the sharp
click of Scrapper's bill, and he knew by the way Scrapper kept opening
and shutting his mouth after his return that he had caught that fly and
it had tasted good.

"Are you going to build in the Old Orchard this year?" asked