“B.  Oriole comes, north before his mate to be, and spends a few days in fretting until she arrives.  Then he sings a gladsome song, to tell her of his pleasure, and she answers, I am sorry to say, in rather a complaining tone; but the match is soon made.  Though they are not the sweetest-tempered birds possible, they are as quick to aid as to quarrel with their neighbors.

“Their bright colors seem rather out of place in the family which contains also our sombre Blackbirds, but before the leaves have fallen both kinds of Orioles and their families start for Mexico and Central America, where such tropical hues seem more in keeping, and where many members of the family are quite as brilliant as those we see here.”  “There goes another Oriole!” cried Nat.  “What a beauty, too!  I suppose he has a nest high up in one of these elms over the road.”

“Very likely, for in autumn, when the trees are bare, I have sometimes counted a dozen Orioles’ nests in this very row of elms.”

“Look, Uncle Roy!  Look over in that pasture!  What are all those black and brown birds walking round after the cows, just as chickens do?” said Dodo.

“Those are members of the Blackbird family called Cowbirds, because they follow the cows as they feed, in order to pick up worms and bugs that are shaken out of the grass.  But I am sorry to say that these birds are the vagabonds of Birdland—­the tramps I told you of.”

The Baltimore Oriole

Length seven and a half inches.

Male:  orange flame-color, the head, neck, and upper half of back black; wings black, edged with white; tail black and orange, about half and half.

Female:  not clear orange and black, but the former color much duller, and the latter mixed up with gray, olive, and brown.

A Summer Citizen of the United States east of the Rocky Mountains, north to Canada, travelling to Central America for the winter.

A worthy Citizen, fine musician, and a good neighbor.  Belongs to the guilds of Ground Gleaners, Tree Trappers, and Seed Sowers.

THE COWBIRD

(THE TRAMP)

“Cluck-see! cluck-see!” called a Cowbird, flying over the wall to join the others in the pasture.

“What a hoarse ugly cry!” said Nat.

“Yes, but not more disagreeable than the bird’s habits.  I will tell you what happens every season to some poor Warbler, Sparrow, or Vireo, on account of this strange bird.

“A Song Sparrow builds her nest in the grass; an egg is laid, the bird looks proudly at it, and may perhaps fly off for a few minutes.  Meanwhile, peeping and spying, along comes a Cowbird.  She wants to lay an egg, too, but has no home, because she is too lazy and shiftless to build one.  She sees the Sparrow’s nest and thinks, ’Ah, hah! that bird is smaller than I am, and cannot push my egg out; I will leave it there!’ This she does very quickly, and slips away again.