Hush! ’Tis he! My oriole, my glance of summer fire, Is come at last, and, ever on the watch, Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound About the bough to help his housekeeping— Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, Yet fearing me who laid it in his way, Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs, Divines the providence that hides and helps. —James Russell Lowell, “Under the Willows.” THE FIRE-BIRD. This Oriole is one of the most brilliantly colored of our common birds. The name oriole is from “aureolus,” meaning, little bird in gold. Ruskin says that on the plumes of birds the gold of the cloud is put, that cannot be gathered of any covetousness. There is a story to the effect that when, in 1628, Lord Baltimore was exploring the Chesapeake, worn out and discouraged, he was so much cheered by the sight and sound of the oriole that he adopted its colors as his own, hence the name, “Baltimore Oriole.” This bird, however, rejoices in several other cognomens, such as English Robin, Golden Robin, Hang-nest Bird, Fire-Finch, and Golden Oriole. He is both esthetic and utilitarian, being beautiful, musical, social and also useful in that he feeds upon insects most injurious to vegetation; especially the harmful small kinds passed over unnoticed by the birds of other species. The Baltimore Oriole is fond of sweets. He has been seen to snip off the heads of white-headed or stingless bees and draw out the viscera through the ring-like opening, for the sake of the honey sack. How did he know it was there? How did he learn that he could get at it in this way? The poet naturalist, Thompson, well says of him: “You whisk wild splendors through the trees, And send keen fervors down the wind; You singe the jackets of the bees, And trail an opal mist behind. “When flowery hints foresay the berry, On spray of haw and tuft of briar, Then wandering incendiary, You set the maple swamps afire.” While the Oriole’s song is not especially melodious to me, it is fresh and cheerful, with something of a human element in its child-like whistle. Young birds in the nest cry “cree-te-te-te-te-te.”