246 MEMOIRS OF THE NUTTALL ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 



Mr. C. Pickering," ever saw or "heard of" this Oriole in Massachusetts. I first 

 met with it near Cambridge on July 20, 1868, when I found a pair of old birds, 

 accompanied by several young, feeding on the ground in a freshly mown field in 

 Belmont. On May 19, 1876, a pair appeared in our garden, but remained there 

 only a short time. Since 1880 Mr. Walter Faxon and I have repeatedly noted 

 birds which were apparently settled for the season and probably breeding. 

 Most of them have been seen in Cambridge, Arlington and Belmont, in or near 

 apple orchards. In 1894 they were so numerous that we had no less than six 

 different males under observation. One, which was frequently seen in company 

 with its mate, was evidently nesting in a cluster of buttonwood and wild apple 

 trees on the edge of the Charles River Marshes near the Cambridge Cemetery. 

 Another sang regularly in the elms which shade Fayerweather Street, Cambridge, 

 just to the westward of the site of our old city reservoir. The nest of a third, 

 found by Mr. Faxon in an apple tree in Arlington just after the young had left it, 

 is now in the Museum of Comparative Zoology. 



137. Icterus galbula (Linn.). 

 Baltimore Oriole. Golden Oriole. Golden Robin. Hangbird. 



Abundant summer resident. 



SEASONAL occurrence. 



May I, 1S96, one male seen, Arlington, W. Fa.xon. 



May 8 — September i. 

 September 9, 1901, one seen, Cambridge, W. Brewster. 



NESTING DATES. 



June I — 8. 



None of the merely local changes which have affected so many of our 

 native birds appear to have caused any diminution in the numbers of the 

 Baltimore Oriole nor even to have materially reduced the area of its breeding 

 range. In May the sound of its rich bugle call and the sight of its striking 

 black and orange livery are quite as frequent and familiar now as they were 

 thirty years ago, even in densely populated parts of Cambridge and its suburbs ; 

 here in late June we continue to hear the insistent, monotonous calls of young 

 Golden Robins issuing from nests swinging at the ends of elm branches that 

 droop over our busiest city streets. The birds are still more numerous about 



