Authorities agree that the lyre-bird's powers of song are remarkable. It seems to have the power of mocking almost every other bird, as well as the barking of the dingo, besides possessing a sweet song of its own. One author states that for the first two hours of the morning it repeats over again its own song, then gradually changes it to imitate other birds, ending its four-hour song period with imitations of all the other birds within hearing, then remaining silent for the rest of the day. The nest is a dome-shaped affair with the opening in one side, made of "small sticks, interwoven with moss and fibers of roots." "The single egg laid is of a very dark color, appearing as if it had been blotched over with ink." The young emerges from the egg a downy white ball, perfectly helpless, and remains in the nest for several weeks. The food seems to consist of insects, myriapods, and snails, of which large quantities must be destroyed to satisfy a bird of this size. This is another of the world forms which are doomed to complete extinction. It is to be earnestly hoped that the time of its disappearance will await a more careful study of its habits than has been accomplished thus far. A study of these curious forms can hardly fail to throw much light upon the development of the bird fauna of the world. [Illustration: FROM COL. F. KAEMPFER. A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO. LYRE BIRD. 1/5 Life-size. COPYRIGHT 1899, BY NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.] ROBERT AND PEEPSY--THE TWINS. NELLY HART WOODWORTH. In the latter part of May a pair of Baltimore orioles built a nest in my maples, from which, eventually, a brood of noisy fledglings were launched upon the world. A quantity of Hamburg embroidery was woven into the nest and festooned gracefully from the outside. This was obtained from my neighbor's washing as it lay bleaching upon the grass, a task demanding more time and strength than seemed necessary for useless ornamentation. To all appearance the esthetic taste of the builders was more pronounced than was their family discipline. The children were a clamoring, rollicking group, pushing each other about and insisting, forcibly, upon a high point of view that constantly threatened their frail lives. I was in constant fear lest they come tumbling down and it was not long before my worst fears were realized. They fell, with a shower, upon the morning of the 23rd of June, tumbling pell-mell into the strawberry bed, the biggest baby picking himself up in a hurry, and climbing upon one of the fence wires. The other nestlings were marched off by the head of the family to other fields of observation, the first little bird hopping from the fence to a wild rosebush that grew beside the kitchen door. There he was fed by his father during the day; as his mother did not appear I inferred that she had her hands full with the other children.