A Widow and Tivins. 
769 
1891 .] 
body. All of which shows once more 
how “ human-like ” birds are. The be¬ 
wilderment of the oriole was comical. 
“ What on earth can this crazy thing be 
shooting about my ears in this style for ? ” 
I imagined him saying to himself. In 
fact, as he glanced my way, now and 
then, with his innocent baby face, I could 
almost believe that he was appealing to 
me with some such inquiry. 
The next morning (“at 7.32,” as my 
diary is careful to note) one of the twins 
took his flight. I was standing on the 
wall, with my glass leveled upon the 
nest, when I saw him exercising his 
wings. The action was little more pro¬ 
nounced than had been noticed at inter¬ 
vals during the last three or four days, 
except that he was more decidedly on 
his feet. Suddenly, without making use 
of the rim of the nest, as I should have 
expected him to do, he was in the air, 
hovering in the prettiest fashion, and in 
a moment more had alighted on a leaf¬ 
less twig slightly above the level of the 
nest, and perhaps a yard from it. With¬ 
in a minute the mother appeared, buzz¬ 
ing and calling, with answering calls 
from the youthful adventurer. At once 
— after a hasty reconnaissance of the 
man on the wall — she perched beside 
him, and plunged her bill into his throat. 
Then she went to the nest, served the 
other one in the same way, and made 
off. She had no time to waste at this 
juncture of affairs. 
When she had gone, I stepped up to 
the trunk of the tree to watch the little 
fellow more closely. He held his perch, 
and occupied himself with dressing his 
plumage, though, as the breeze fresh¬ 
ened, he was compelled once in a while 
to keep his wings in motion to prevent 
the wind from carrying him away. When 
the old bird returned, — in just half an 
hour, — she resented my intrusion (what 
an oppressor of the widow and the 
1 For convenience, I use the masculine pro¬ 
noun in speaking- of both the young birds; but 
I knew nothing as to the sex of either of them, 
vol. lxvh. — no. 404. 49 
fatherless she must by this time have 
thought me!) in the most unmistakable 
manner, coming more than once quite 
within reach. However, she soon gave 
over these attempts at intimidation, 
perched beside the percher, and again 
put something into his maw. This time 
she did not feed the nestling. As she 
took her departure, she told the come- 
outer — or so I fancied — that there was 
a man under the tree, a pestilent fellow, 
and it would be well to get a little out 
of his reach. At all events, she had 
scarcely disappeared before the young¬ 
ster was again on the wing. It was 
wonderful how much at home he seemed, 
— poising, backing, soaring, and alight¬ 
ing with all the ease and grace of an 
old hand. One only piece of awkward¬ 
ness I saw him commit: he dropped 
upon a branch much too large for his 
tiny feet, and was manifestly uncomfort¬ 
able. But he did not stay long, and at 
his next alighting was well up in the 
tree, where it was noticeable that he re¬ 
mained ever after. 
With so much going on outside, it 
was hard to remain indoors, and finally 
I took a chair to the orchard, and gave 
myself up to watching the drama. The 
feeding process, though still always by 
regurgitation, was by this time some¬ 
what different from what it had been 
when the bills of the young were less 
fully developed. In my notes of this 
date I find the following description of 
it: “ Number Two is still in the nest, but 
uneasy. At 10.25 the mother appeared 
and fed him. 1 Her beak was thrust into 
his mouth at right angles, — the change 
being necessitated, probably, by the great¬ 
er length of his bill, — and he seemed to 
be jerking strenuously at it. Then he 
opened his beak and remained motion¬ 
less, while the black mandibles of the 
mother could be seen running down out 
of sight into His throat.” 
though I came finally to believe that one was 
a male and the other a female. 
