It seems odd to put the gay orioles into the Blackbird Family, especially as they don't live on the ground either; but that's where they belong in the books. Orioles live in the trees, and are fine singers. They have sharp-pointed bills, suitable for picking tiny insects out of fruit blossoms. They
have some of the family color,
black, but more orange color, or chestnut red, or yellow. They all make beautiful nests.

The Baltimore oriole is all over the East, the orchard oriole in the South, and the Arizona hooded oriole in the West.

The Baltimore Oriole, who has several other names, such as fire-bird, golden robin, and hang-nest, is a very showy bird, in bright orange and black. He has a fine though short song. His mate is yellow, and brown instead of black, and has a sweet song of her own. Both of them can scold as well as any birds I know.

The nest of this oriole is one of the prettiest we have. It is hung high up in a tall tree, an elm or willow usually, and near the end of a branch, where it swings in the wind. It is a deep bag made of plant fibres, bits of string, and other things. The whole has a gray tint and a silky look, which make it very attractive.

While the mother bird is sitting, her mate stays near and sings a good deal; but when feeding time comes, he works as hard as she in stuffing the hungry little mouths.

As soon as the nestlings are off, they go away in a little party. Then one who looks sharp may often see an oriole papa going quietly about on the ground, with two or three little ones after him, still calling to be fed. He doesn't sing any in these busy days. But sometimes, after the young have learned to feed themselves, he will sing again a little before they all start for their warm winter home in Central America.

It is an anxious time in the bird world when the young are leaving the nest. Orioles are so nervous and make such an outcry over their troubles that we often hear them. The most common accident is the falling of a nestling to the ground. The old birds make so much fuss over it that one would think the baby had fallen into the claws of the cat, at the very least.

They fly around as if they were crazy, shrieking and calling, for they are very fond of their little folk. The youngsters are plucky little fellows. One will hop along till he comes to a tree, and then try to climb the trunk. If he happens to hit on a tree with rough bark, he can do pretty well. He flutters a little way up, and then holds on by the claws till rested. Then he flies a little farther, and so he goes till he reaches a branch.

If it is a smooth trunk he tries, his troubles are great. Sometimes one will scramble up till he comes to a leaf that grows out from the trunk, and hang on to that till he is able to go on. But often one is unable to keep his hold, and falls back into the grass. I have several times picked up a hot and frightened birdling and put him on a branch.

A lady told me an interesting little story, showing how helpful birds are to one another. A Baltimore oriole was picked up from the ground with his wing broken so that he could not fly. The kind-hearted people fixed him comfortably in an attic. They intended to feed him and care for him till he got well and could fly.

They left him there with a window open, so that his wild friends could bring food if they wished. A little while afterward one of them went up to see about the invalid. Behold, he was gone!

They looked for him everywhere, for they knew he could not fly. Suddenly they noticed a great deal of oriole chatter out in the yard. Then they looked carefully over a tree near the window, and there they saw the broken-winged bird in the midst of quite a flock of others.

Of course the outside birds were called by the captive, and they must have carried him out in some way. Birds have been seen to carry off one who was wounded, in two ways. One way was by two birds each taking in his beak a wing of the helpless bird and so flying away with him. This has been seen, and more than once, by men who tell the truth.

The second way birds have been seen to help another was by one getting under the helpless one and so holding him up on the back. This also has been seen by men whose word can be trusted. You remember I told you such a story about the shrike.

So many untrue stories are told about the birds that I am very careful not to tell you anything that is not strictly true.

If you live in the South, you more often see the Orchard Oriole. He is not quite so gay in his dress as the Baltimore. He has chestnut color with his black. His mate is different. She is olive on the back, and yellow below, and she has bright blue legs and feet, which look as if they were covered with kid.

The nest is a hanging one, of course, but it does not usually swing like other oriole nests. It is a little supported at the bottom. It is very beautiful, for it is made of one kind of fine grass. When it is first made, its green color makes it hard to see among the leaves. And as it dries, it turns a rich yellow, like bright clean straw. It is not so high as the Baltimore's, and not hung to the end of a branch. It is often in an apple-tree, for this bird likes to be near people.

The song of the orchard oriole is different from the Baltimore's. It is longer, and has more variety. His mate sings also. Her voice is sweeter than his and not so loud.

If you live in California, the oriole you know will be the Arizona Hooded Oriole. Sometimes he is called the palm-leaf oriole for a reason you will soon see. He is a beautiful, slender bird, having bright orange color with his black. He wears more black than some of the family. His face and throat and tail and wings are of that color, though the wings have two white bars. His mate is yellowish below and olive brown above.

This bird makes the regular oriole family cradle. Sometimes it swings free like the Baltimore's, but not always. It is made of slender, wiry grass, which is green, so that it is hard to see. Sometimes a sort of thread from the edge of palm leaves is used.

This bird sometimes selects a droll place for her nest. She swings it from the under side of a palm or banana leaf. You know a banana leaf is long and wide, and makes a comfortable shade in a hot day; and it does just as well for an umbrella when it rains. It is hard to see how a bird can fasten a nest to a smooth leaf. But Mrs. Grinnell has seen it done in her own yard, and she tells us how the little builder goes to work.

First she takes a thread in her beak and pushes it through the leaf, making a hole, of course. Then she flies around to the other side of the broad leaf, and standing there a minute she pulls the thread through, and pushes it back, making another hole. Thus she goes on, flying from one side to the other till she has sewed her bag to the strong leaf.

Except in the place they choose for their nest, these orioles are about the same as their Eastern cousins, and oriole little folk are the same the world over, I think.