FAR AND NEAR 



song to her ear like a sparrow's. Soon there were 

 young in the nest, and the air was filled with the con- 

 stant fluttering of wings and the rapturous song of 

 the father. But alas! one morning found the nest 

 rifled of its treasures, and only the silent, miserable 

 male flitting in and about the home in the most 

 heartbroken fashion. A red squirrel or a cat or an 

 owl had done the mischief. The nest was woven of 

 hemp and grasses, and was suspended from the fork 

 of a limb. The teacher guessed rightly that the bird 

 was a near relative of the Baltimore oriole; it was 

 the orchard oriole, a much rarer bird and a much 

 finer songster. The song is not like a sparrow's, 

 but much louder, stronger, and more ecstatic. The 

 male does not get his full uniform of black and bay 

 till the fourth summer. 



A college boy once wrote me that he had seen a mo- 

 ther oriole fall down dead when her nest was being 

 robbed. The nest was in a large sycamore about 

 twenty-five feet from the ground. An old French- 

 man living near wanted one of the eggs for his col- 

 lection. He procured a long pole, armed with some 

 sharp nails on the end, and from the top of a small 

 building under the tree tried to cut off the nest from 

 the branch. The mother bird kept her place within 

 till it began to yield before the assault. Instead of 

 eggs, the nest held young birds. When one of them 

 fell out, the mother bird flew down and screamed 

 around it in great excitement. Before the man could 

 168 



