insects he often stops to sin"; his hurried about this bird which seems to pervade 

 measures. His somber colored mate, his whole life history. He dresses 

 who is quietly attending" to the duties quietly but with excellent taste, his nest 

 of her home, hidden from view by the is of the choicest materials, while his 

 foliage with which her color harmon- song suggests the finished effort of a 

 izes, must enjoy his merry melody and perfectly trained performer. His voice 

 vivacious ways. Then, too, he takes to is indeed unusually rich and flexible, 

 her some of the insect tidbits which and he uses it with rare skill and ex- 

 he has gleaned. pression. Words can not describe his 

 The words of Mr. Chapman will song, but no lover of bird-music will be 

 form a most appropriate finale to any long in the vicinity of a singing Orchard 

 discussion regarding the Orchard Ori- Oriole without learning the distin- 

 ole: "There is an air of refinement guished songster's name." 



THE ORIOLE'S NEST. 



A whir of wings, a flash of light, 



A glimpse of orange and of night, 

 A trill of song both sweet and low — 

 The sights and sounds that charm us so. 



^to' 



A nest of straw and grasses neat, 

 A home for birdlings, fresh and sweet. 

 So high above on slender rack, 

 Is swinging gently forth and back. 



On lofty bough the nest is made. 

 And glimmers in the light and shade, 

 Among the leaves so deep and green. 

 They shimmer in their silver sheen. 



The maple tree is tall and old, 

 That stood through heat and winter's cold 

 Its twigs are strong to bear the nest 

 Of orioles with golden breast. 



So silently they come and go, 



With scarce a note, though soft and low, — 



The orioles are bringing food 



On tireless pinions to their brood. 



Oh, what a nest of love is this. 

 Sweet emblem of the heav'nly bliss. 

 Where hallowed peace and calm abide. 

 Through all the gentle summertide ! 



— W. H. Sheak. 



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