WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



Much confusion arose among the earlier natural- 

 ists from this circumstance, though not quite so 

 much as ensued upon the discovery of the cousin 

 of this species the orchard oriole which bears 

 the specific name spurius to this day as a memory 

 of the time when ornithologists called it a "bas- 

 tard." 



The singing of the males is at its height now 

 that the females have come, and they are to be 

 heard, not only from field and grove and country 

 way-side, but in the streets of villages, and even 

 in the parks of cities, where they are recognized 

 by every school-boy, who calls them fire-birds, 

 golden-robins, hang-nests, and Baltimore birds. 

 The parks and avenues of Philadelphia, the elm- 

 embowered precincts of New Haven, the sacred 

 trees of Boston Common, the classic shades of Har- 

 vard Square, and the malls of Central Park all 

 echo to their spring-time music. 



The song of the oriole is indescribable, as to me 

 are the tunes of most of the songsters. Nuttall's 

 ingenious syllables are totally useless for express- 

 ing the pure and versatile fluting which floats 

 from the elm-tops. Wilson catches its spirit when 

 he says that " there is in it a certain wild plaintive- 

 ness and naivete extremely interesting," and that 



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