VII. 

 A STORMY WOOING. 



If, as Ruskin says, "the bird is little more 

 than a drift of the air, brought into form by 

 plumes," the particular bit shaped into the 

 form we call the orchard oriole must be a breath 

 from a Western tornado, for a more hot-headed, 

 blustering individual would be hard to find ; 

 and when this embodied hurricane, this " drift " 

 of an all-destroying tempest, goes a-wooing, 

 strange indeed are the ways he takes to win 

 his mate, and stranger still the fact that he does 

 win her in spite of his violence. 



In a certain neighborhood, where I spent 

 some time in the nesting season, studying a 

 bird of vastly different character, orchard ori- 

 oles were numerous, and in their usual fashion 

 made their presence known by persistent sing- 

 ing around the house. For it must be admitted, 

 whatever their defects of temper or manners, 

 that they are most cheerful in song, the female no 

 less than the male. First of the early morning 

 bird chorus comes their song, loud, rich, and oft- 



