ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE BIRD. 247 
tection. The orchard oriole prefers my neighbor’s or- 
chard just beyond, but feeds in my yard; and last sum- 
mer, a little fellow that had married without his wed- 
ding garment, brought the sole output of the season— 
a squabby cowbird—into the wild crab to feed him. I 
went out, and as I stood under the squab, and he was 
constantly “ chitting”’ for more food, there flew down 
to him a female cow- 
bird and sat near 
him and seemed in- 
terested in him. I 
waited patiently to 
see if she would 
break the record by 
feeding him; but in 
a few minutes she 
flew off with her 
66 glassy eal (as Immature plumage of male orchard oriole 
—all the body yet yellow, but the 
Burroughs has so 7 ; 
throat black. 
well called it) after 
her mates. I could but wonder if the youngster was 
hatched from her egg, and if any maternal feeling had 
been stirred in her breast by the call of this babe of her 
own blood. It may have been a remembrance only of 
her own babyhood, for cowbirds do not have this “chit” 
when they are grown. Well, I was studying the devel- 
opment of young birds’ wings and wanted a specimen, 
and as the life of every cowbird means the death of 
several other little bird’s equally useful, and these 
young people were being seriously imposed upon, I 
took this orphan off their hands. Some birds I have 

