My Elm-Tree Oriole. 



THE humming-bird is summer written in 

 italics ; the scarlet tanager is the season's ex- 

 clamation point. By nothing else is our delight 

 at summer's charm so well expressed. We 

 never look beyond these birds for greater glory. 

 They are the completion, we feel, of the sum- 

 mer's effort to beautify our woods and by-ways. 

 The Baltimore oriole is a strong competitor. 

 There is the tropical brilliancy and almost the 

 humming-bird's activity, but many soon weary 

 of this display of orange and black, of flame 

 and smoke, because of the tiresome screeching 

 with which its presence is proclaimed. I have 

 known nervous people driven in-doors by the 

 oriole's harsh cries, that can best be likened to 

 the piercing creak of unoiled machinery. But 

 it is not always so. Early in the blessed month 

 of May a smooth-tongued oriole came to the 

 door-yard elm, and with all the vivacity of its 



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