THE ORCHARD ORIOLE

(THE BASKET-MAKER)

The sun was now well above the trees.  The children laughed and talked happily, now seeing a bird they knew, then some of the flowers that their dear flower lady, Olive, had shown them about the Farm.

“When we know some flowers and birds, shan’t we learn about the bugs and things the birds eat, and the bees and butterflies that carry the flower messages, Uncle Roy?”

“Yes, to be sure; and by that time there will be something else for you to wonder about.”

“Why!” cried Dodo gleefully, “if we stay here till we know all we want it will be so long that Rap will have a beard like you, uncle, and I shall have my hair stuck up with hairpins, and wear the long skirts that tangle people up”—­and at this they all laughed.

[Illustration:  Orchard Oriole. 1.  Male. 2.  Female]

“What was that?” asked Nat, as a bird darted by, flashing with orange and black.

“That’s an Oriole,” said Rap.

“Yes, an Oriole; but do you know what kind?” said the Doctor.  “I didn’t know there was but one kind,” answered Rap.  “Anyway, this one makes a long nest hanging from the end of a branch; he is a good fighter if any one touches it, and can keep away squirrels and chipmunks like a little man.”

“There are seven different species of North American Orioles,” said the Doctor; “but you are only likely to see two of them—­the hammock-maker and the basket-maker.  This one, the hammock-maker, who has just flown by, is called the Baltimore Oriole, because George Calvert, Lord Baltimore, on landing in this country in 1628, is said to have admired the colors of the bird and adopted them for his coat of arms.  Some called him Fire-bird, because he is so flaming orange on some parts, and others Hang-nest, from the way he slings his hammock.

“The plainer black and chestnut bird, who now has a nest in our own Orchard, is the Basket-maker.  As these two belong to the Blackbird and Oriole family, we may as well have them now, though in the regular family procession the ‘tramp’ walks next to the Bobolink, who is such a vagrant himself.

“This Oriole takes his name because he was once supposed to hang his nest chiefly in the branches of orchard trees; but he is as likely to be found in the maples by the garden fence as anywhere else.

“He has a cheerful rolling song, as varied in its different tunes as that of the Song Sparrow.  It is not like a Robin’s, or a Thrush’s, or even like Brother Baltimore’s; it is perfectly original, and before these birds leave the Orchard you must listen, to hear it for yourselves.

“Mrs. O. Oriole is a famous weaver; her grass nest, hung from a crotch, is one of the tidiest bits of basket-making in Birdland, and would do credit to human hands.  Yet she has only a beak for a shuttle or darning-needle—­whichever you please to call it.  I think it is most like the needle of a sewing-machine, with the eye at the point, so that it pokes the thread through as it goes into the cloth, instead of pulling it through with the other end.”