A WIDOW AND TWINS. 123 
ready fifteen days old, at least, and, unless 
they were to prove uncommonly backward 
specimens, ought to be on the wing forth- 
with. Nevertheless they were in no haste. 
Day after day passed. The youngsters 
looked more and more like old birds, and 
the mother grew constantly more and more 
nervous. 
On the 18th I found her in a state of un- 
precedented excitement, squeaking almost 
incessantly. At first I attributed this to 
concern at my presence, but after a while it 
transpired that a young oriole — a blunder- 
ing, tailless fellow—was the cause of the 
disturbance. By some accident he had 
dropped into the leafy treetop, as guiltless of 
any evil design as one of her own nestlings. 
How she did buzz about him! In and out 
among the branches she went, now on this 
side of him, now on that, and now just over 
his back; all the time squeaking fiercely, 
and carrying her tail spread to its utmost. 
The scene lasted for some minutes. 
Through it all the two young birds kept 
perfectly quiet, never once putting up their 
heads, even when the mother, buzzing and 
calling, zigzagged directly about the nest. 
