esa_, viz.,--"_Hear me, St. Theresa_,"
beginning quite high and sinking to a much lower strain. I have since
seen in the naturalist Nuttall's work, that this author compares the
note of the Green Warbler to the syllables, _te-de-deritsea_, repeated
slowly and melodiously.

On the north side of the lane, leading from the house down to the road,
opposite the maple above alluded to, where the robins had a nest, there
stood two elms, quite tall trees, in the uppermost of which, during
three summers, a pair of Baltimore orioles built. These orioles had
never come there previously; at least, the Old Squire had never seen
one, but Gram recognized them the first time one sang, as an old
acquaintance of her girlhood days; she called them Golden Robins and was
much delighted to hear them. They came on one of the first days of June;
and as I had arrived but a few days previously, Gram declared that I
"had brought them with me." But the fact is, that the Baltimore oriole
moves its habitat slowly northeastward, in the wake of man and his
orchards and shade trees; for it is one of those birds which, like the
robin, depend on mankind for protection. This pair constructed a hanging
nest from a twig of one of the drooping elm branches and reared a brood
successfully that season; and throughout that entire month of June,
their song, uttered at intervals of their labors, was a daily delight to
us all. Next after the wood thrush and the robin, the loud yet sweetly
modulated call of the Baltimore oriole is the most pleasing of all our
bird notes. Pure and sweet as it is, too, it nearly always startles the
hearer, from its regal volume and 5 strength. Gram's version of its song
was, _Cusick, cusick!_ _So-ho-o-o!_ _Do you know I'm back with you!_ But
the words themselves give no idea whatever of the song, unless uttered
with the strange, liquid modulations which characterize it.

During the third season some accident befell the pair, or their nest;
they suddenly disappeared and thenceforward we missed their melodious
invocations. Gram, in particular, lamented their departure. A pair,
perhaps the same pair, afterwards built in a butternut tree near the
Edwards' farmhouse; but they never returned to us. To the lover of
birds, the oriole in its flight among the trees, like a yellow meteor
flashing past, is a sight that instantly rivets the attention, and is as
delightfully startling to the eye as its song is to the ear. But I know
of no device