Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 October 1885 — The Charming Oriole. [ARTICLE]

The Charming Oriole.

The bird’s song consists of four notes, and it is curious that, although there is a peculiar, rich, flute-like quality by which the oriole notes may be recognized, no two sing alike. Robins, song sparrows, and perhaps all other birds sing differently from each other,so far as I have observed, but none differ so greatly, in my opinion, as orioles. The four that I have been able to study carefully enough to reduce this song to the musical scale, though all having the same compass, arranged the notes differently in every case. The oriole is, of course, not limited in expression to his song. I have spoken of his cry of distress or of war, which was two tones slurred together. The ordinary call, as he goes about a tree, especially a fruit tree in bloom, seeking insects over and under each leaf or blossom, is a single note, loud and clear. If a pair are on the tree together, it is the same, but much softer. An oriole that I w r atched in the Catskill Mountains regularly fed its mate while she was sitting, and as he left the nest, after giving her a morsel, he uttered two notes which sounded exactly like “A-dieu,” adding, after a pause, two more which irresistibly said, “Dear-v.” There was a peculiar mournfulness in the bird’s strain, as if he implied “It’s a sad world of cats, and crows, and inquisitive people, and we may never meet again. ” Perhaps it was prophetic, for disaster did overtake the little family; a high wind rocked the cradle—which was on a small maple tree—so violently as to throw out the youngsters before they could fly. The accident was remedied as far as possible by returning them to the nest, but whether they were injured by the fall I never learned. Scolding is quite ready to an oriole’s tongue, and even squawks like a robin’s are not unknown. The female has similar utterances, but in those I have listened to her song was weaker, lacked the clear-cut .perfection of her mate’s, and sounded like the first efforts of a young bird. In the case of those now under consideration, the female reproduced exactly her partner’s notes, only in this inferior style, whii-h seemed rather unusual. The sweetest sound the oriole utters is a very low one, to his mate when near by, or fishing away with her, or to his nestlings before they leave home. It is a tender, yearning call that makes one feel like an intruder, and as if she should beg pardon and retire. It is impossible to describe or reduce to the scale, but it is well worth waiting and listening for. —Olive Thorne Miller, in the Atlantic. In Aberdeen, Scotland, many per sonß are down on dancing, of which they speak as “close ; bosomed whirlings.” Whoever makes the fewest persons uneasy is the best bred in the company.