ROBERT AND PEEPSY THE TWINS. 



NELLY HART WOODWORTH. 



IN THE latter part of May a pair of 

 Baltimore orioles built a nest in 

 my maples, from which, eventually, 

 a brood of noisy fledglings were 

 launched upon the world. A quantity 

 of Hamburg embroidery was woven 

 into the nest and festooned gracefully 

 from the outside. 



This was obtained from my neigh 

 bor's washing as it lay bleaching upon 

 the grass, a task demanding more time 

 and strength than seemed necessary 

 for useless ornamentation. 



To all appearance the esthetic taste 

 of the builders was more pronounced 

 than was their family discipline. 



The children were a clamoring, rol 

 licking group, pushing each other about 

 and insisting, forcibly, upon a high 

 point of view that constantly threat 

 ened their frail lives. I was in constant 

 fear lest they come tumbling down and 

 it was not long before my worst fears 

 were realized. 



They fell, with a shower, upon the 

 morning of the 23rd of June, tumbling 

 pell-mell into the strawberry bed, the 

 biggest baby picking himself up in a 

 hurry, and climbing upon one of the 

 fence wires'. 



The other nestlings were marched off 

 by the head of the family to other 

 fields of observation, the first little bird 

 hopping from the fence to a wild rose 

 bush that grew beside the kitchen door. 



There he was fed by his father dur 

 ing the day; as his mother did not ap 

 pear I inferred that she had her hands 

 full with the other children. 



Neither parent appearing the next 

 morning, the first baby was put into a 

 grape basket upon the window-sill. 



Before noon the old birds came; the 

 wire netting was removed from the 

 window, both parents coming at short 

 intervals into the kitchen with food. 



To my surprise they did not return 

 the following morning, when I fully in 

 tended to speed the parting guest, 

 though the little one was placed in a 

 cage outside the door. The helpless 

 infant was left in an orphaned condi 



tion to my care; he could not feed him 

 self, nor did he understand, under my 

 tutelage, how to open his beak when 

 food was brought. It was necessary to 

 pry it open, the lunches coming so 

 often that nearly all my time was spent 

 in attending to his meals. That very 

 evening the chore-boy brought a lank, 

 long-legged bobolink which was given 

 into my keeping only because it was 

 threatened with starvation. 



Like the oriole he was too young to 

 feed himself and had been for twelve 

 hours without food. 



A more uninviting specimen of baby 

 hood could not be imagined, forlorn, 

 ragged, with unfeathered spaces upon 

 his homely little body; but, though he 

 had none of the oriole's commanding 

 beauty, he was sure to perish unless 

 regularly adopted and his infant wants 

 supplied. 



He was placed in the cage while the 

 oriole was taking a nap, the introduc 

 tion prefaced by being stuffed till his 

 bare little crop was as round and full as 

 an egg. Mrs. Olive Thome Miller, who 

 was with me at the time, assisted at the 

 christening of the pair. 



As the oriole was always peeping we 

 called him "Peepsy;" the bobolink was 

 named "Robert" with due respect to 

 the Robert o-Lincoln family. 



They were oftenest called "the twins," 

 and troublesome twins they were, wak 

 ing me at three o'clock each morning 

 and crying loudly for their breakfast, 

 which was prepared the previous even 

 ing. 



Peepsy was first taken in my hand 

 and given a few mouthfuls, then Rob 

 ert's turn came, after which Peepsy 

 was thoroughly fed and when Robert's 

 demands were appeased, both birds 

 were returned to the cage for another 

 nap. 



After sleeping innocently for another 

 hour they awoke, insisting with em 

 phatic protest upon an immediate sup 

 ply of rations. 



There were times when they jerked 

 their heads from side to side and not 



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