38 
NATURE’S CRAFTSMEN 
attention. For those on the porch turned to him 
gladly, and a general smile went round when 
Max translated the high-whistled notes which fol¬ 
lowed as, “ Little boy, you better look out! Lit¬ 
tle boy, you better look out! ” 
And then the lad shook a chubby fist at the 
bird: “ Don’t you go mistaking me for a cradle 
snatcher, Mr. Peter,” he admonished laughingly. 
“ You are a sorry husband, sporting about here 
and there, and leaving all the home building to 
your gentle little olive-clad mate. You’d best 
sing out your name a little louder. Mrs. Clara 
Peter will think you are gone for good, and take 
that dashing cavalier that was whistling around 
here yesterday.” 
Mayhap the well-groomed black-and-orange 
clad fellow held that “ A hint to the wise is suffi¬ 
cient ”; at any rate, he was away instantly—a 
flash of fire through the air, while in the wake of 
the “ feathered meteor ” floated a volley of gay, 
high-whistled notes. 
“ The darling! ” murmured Auntie, apprecia¬ 
tively. “ I’m sure I love the Baltimore oriole 
more than any of our bird friends. He is so 
human . One can get almost anything out of his 
notes—sympathy, humor, admonition. Hand me 
that book, Alice, please. There are some lines 
on the oriole that I am sure you will all ap¬ 
preciate: 
