"Their song is not easy to express in words. 'Bobolink,' from which they take their name, is the sound most frequently heard in it; but every bird-lover has tried to give it words, and some have written it down in rhyming nonsense verses, like poetry. I think Mr. Lowell's are the best.

"'Ha! ha! ha! I must have my fun, Miss Silverthimble, thimble, thimble, if I break every heart in the meadow. See! see! see!' is one translation."

"That does sound exactly like a Bobolink," laughed Dodo; "and here is one now, right over in that tree, so crazy to sing that he doesn't mind us a bit."

"Kick your slipper! Kick your slipper! Temperance! Temperance!" said Bob, as the white horses turned into the road again. "Temperance! take a drink! go to gra.s.s, all of you!"

The Bobolink.

Length about seven inches.

Male in spring and summer: jet black with ashy-white rump and shoulders; some light edgings on the back, wings, and tail-feathers, and a buff patch on the back of the neck, like a cream-puff baked just right.

Female: brownish and streaky like a big Sparrow, with sharp-pointed tail-feathers; two dark-brown stripes on the crown. Brown above, with some black and yellowish streaks. Plain yellowish below.

In autumn and winter both s.e.xes alike.

A Summer Citizen of the northern United States and southern Canada.

Visits all the Southern States in its journeys, but winters south of them.

A member of the guilds of Ground Gleaners and Tree Trappers, and a good Citizen in its nesting haunts. But on its travels through the South a mischievous bird, who eats sprouting rice in spring and ripening rice grains in fall.

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 b.u.t.terflies 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 gra.s.s 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."

The Orchard Oriole

Length seven inches.

Male: black; the rump, breast, belly, and lesser wing-coverts chestnut.

Round black tail with whitish tips, and some whitish on the wings.

Female: grayish-green on the upper parts, greener on the tail, with paler bars on the wings; dull yellow on all the under parts.

The young male is like the female the first year, but a little browner on the back; next year he has a black throat; then he patches up his clothes till he looks like his father, all black and chestnut.

A Summer Citizen of the United States, west to the plains, north to some parts of the Northern States and Canada, travelling entirely south of the United States to spend the winter.

A pleasant though shy neighbor, and very good Citizen, belonging to the Ground Gleaners, Tree Trappers, and Seed Sowers. Eats a little cultivated fruit for dessert, and should be welcome to it.

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE

(THE HAMMOCK-MAKER)

"The Baltimore Oriole is not so shy as his brother, and rather relies on keeping his nest out of sight than himself out of mind. His home is a sort of hempen hammock, only deeper and more pocket-shaped, to keep the babies from falling out, as Nat and Dodo both did out of our hammock yesterday."

"This nest Mrs. B. Oriole twines herself, from plant fibres, adding strings of cotton or worsted when she has a chance to find any. She secures it to the end of a strong supple twig, usually at a good height from the ground, and she likes an elm tree best of all, because it is not easy for cats or House People to climb far out on the slender swaying branches. Up there the eggs and young are safely rocked by the wind and sheltered by leaves. A cat may look at a king, and also at an Oriole's nest, but the looking will not do her much good in either case.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Baltimore Oriole.]

"Mamma Oriole sits on the nest, which is almost closed over her head, and keeps all safe. Though she does not sing to House People, how do we know but what she whispers a little lullaby like this, on stormy nights, to her nestlings?

"Rains beat! Winds blow!

Safe the nest in the elm tree.

Days come! Nights go!

Birds at rest in the elm tree.

To-and-fro, to-a-n-d-fro, Safe are we from every foe-- Orioles in the elm tree.

Cats come! Cats go!

Lullaby in the elm tree!

"Meanwhile B. Oriole does a great deal of work, for he is a tireless member of the guilds of Tree Trappers and Ground Gleaners, eating hosts of caterpillars, wireworms, and beetles. When he is very thirsty he does, now and then, take a sip of the fruit he has helped to save, and once in a while he may eat a few green peas. But would any one refuse a mess of peas to a neighbor in the next house? Then why should you begrudge a few to neighbor B. Oriole? He doubtless paid you for them before he took them, or will do so before long.

"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."