192 IN THE MIDDLE COUNTRY. 



wood-birds sang and nested. On approaching 

 a linden-tree loaded with blossoms, and hum- 

 ming with swarms of bees, I was saluted with 

 a burst of loud song, interspersed with scold- 

 ing. No one but an orchard oriole could so 

 mix things, and sure enough! there he was, 

 scrambling over the flowers. Something he 

 found to his taste, whether the blossoms or the 

 insects, I could not decide. On waiting a little, 

 I heard the young oriole cry, much subdued 

 since nesting days, and the tender " ye-ep " of 

 the parent. The whole family was evidently 

 there together, and I was very glad to see them 

 once more. 



The nest, which I had brought down, was a 

 beautiful structure, made, I think, of very fine 

 excelsior of a bright straw-color. It was sus- 

 pended in an upright fork of four twigs, and 

 lashed securely to three of them, while a few 

 lines were passed around the fourth. Though 

 it was in a fork, it did not rest on it, but was 

 suspended three inches above it, a genuine 

 hanging nest. It was three inches deep and 

 wide, but drawn in about the top to a width of 

 not more than two inches, with a bit of cotton 

 and two small feathers for bedding. How five 

 babies could grow up in that little cup is a 

 problem. The material was woven closely to- 

 gether, and in addition stitched through and 



