THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 29 
of the Oriole are among the most entrancing sounds which haunt our childhood 
and maintain the freshness of advancing years. The female, too, is something 
of a singer, and she whistles and chatters or answers her lord with cheerful 
contentment as she moves about her task. 
The task which the Oriole sets herself in building her nest is one of the 
most exacting in nature, and its fulfilment the most wonderful. Before the 
advent of civilization she had to rely entirely upon vegetable fibers, especially 
the inner bark of hemp, but now her preference is for string, silk, rags, and 
ravelings. It is her preference, by the way, for she does the work, while her 
chosen lord attends her flight, sings snatches of song, or offers gratuitous and 
unheeded advice. So the poet is slightly in error when he says, 
“My Oriole 
Is come at last, and, ever on the watch, 
Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound 
Around the bough to help jis house keeping,— 
Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, 
Yet fearing me, who laid it in his way.” 
But Lowell's lines are so expressive that we readily excuse the oversight and 
eagerly call for more. 
“Heave ho! Heave ho! he whistles as the twine 
Slackens its hold. Once more now! and a flash 
Lightens across the sunlight to the elm 
Where his mate dangles at her cup of felt.” 
From the slender tips of some branch, be it drooping, as of elm or willow, 
or ascending, as of maple or apple, she suspends a closely-woven pouch, which 
yields to every impulse of the wind, but wins by yielding. By seven inches or 
more her eggs are removed from alien beak and talon. 
Tired of the confinement of the nest, the ambitious fledglings clamber up 
the sides and perch upon the brim. From this less secure position they are not 
infrequently dislodged before they are quite ready to face the world. The 
following incident, which came under my notice some years ago, concerns a 
young Bullock’s Oriole, a closely allied species. A friend of mine secured a 
fledgling Oriole, by rescuing it from the water where it had evidently just 
fallen from an overhanging nest. When taken home it proved a ready pet, and 
was given the freedom of the place. Some two weeks later my friend secured 
another nestling Oriole from a different brood and put it in the cage with the 
older bird. The newcomer had not yet learned to feed himself, but only opened 
his mouth and called with childish insistence. Judge of the owner’s delight, 
and mine as a witness, when the older bird, himself but a fledgling, began to 
feed the orphan, with all the tender solicitude of a parent. It was irresistibly 
