THE ORIOLE'S NEST.
"See how each boy, excited by the actual event, is all ear."--Froebel.
There it hangs, on a corner of the picture frame, very much as it hungin the old willow-tree out in the garden.
It was spring time, and I used to move my rocking-chair up to thewindow, where I could lean out and touch the green branches, and watchthere for the wonderful beautiful things to tell my little children inthe kindergarten. There I saw the busy little ants hard at work onthe ground below; the patient, dull, brown toads snapping flies in thesunshine; the striped caterpillars lazily crawling up the trunk of thetree; and dozens of merry birds getting ready for housekeeping.
Did you know the birdies "kept house"? Oh, yes; they never "board" likemen and women; indeed, I don't think they even like to RENT a housewithout fixing it over to suit themselves, but they 'd much rather go towork and build one,
"So snug and so warm, so cosy and neat, To start at their housekeeping all complete."
Now there hung just inside my window a box of strings, and for two orthree days, no matter how many I put into it, when I went to look thenext time none could be found. I had talked to the little girls andscolded the little boys in the house, but no one knew anything aboutthe matter, when one afternoon, as I was sitting there, a beautiful birdwith a yellow breast fluttered down from the willow-tree, perched on thewindow-sill, cocked his saucy head, winked his bright eye, and withoutsaying "If you please," clipped his naughty little beak into the stringbox and flew off with a piece of pink twine.
I sat as still as a mouse to see if the little scamp would dare to comeback; he didn't, but he sent his wife, who gave a hop, skip, and a jump,looked me squarely in the eye, and took her string without being a bitafraid.
Now do you call that stealing? "No," you answer. Neither do I; to besure they took what belonged to me, but the window was wide open, and Ithink they must have known I loved the birds and would like to give themsomething for their new house. Perhaps they knew, too, that bits of oldtwine could not be worth much.
Then how busily they began their work! They had already chosen the placefor their nest, springing up and down in the boughs till they found abranch far out of sight of snakes and hawks and cruel tabby cats, highout of reach of naughty small boys with their sling-shots, and noweverything was ready for these small carpenters to begin their building.No hammer and nails were needed, claw and bill were all the tools theyused, and yet what beautiful carpenter work was theirs!
Do you see how strongly the nest is tied on to those three slendertwigs, and how carefully and closely it is woven, so that you canscarcely pull it apart? Those wiry black hairs holding all the resttogether were dropped from Prince Charming's tail (Prince Charming isthe pretty saddle-horse who crops his grass, under the willow-tree).Those sleek brown hairs belonged to Dame Margery, the gentle mooly cow,who lives with her little calf Pet in the stable with Prince Charming;and there is a shining yellow spot on one side. Ah, you roguish birds,you must have been outside the kitchen window when baby Johnny's curlswere cut! We could only spare two from his precious head, and we huntedeverywhere for this one to send to grandmamma!
Now just look at this door in the side of the nest, and tell me how abird could make such a perfect one; and yet I've heard you say, "It'sonly a bird; he doesn't know anything." To be sure he cannot do as manythings as you, but after all you are not wise enough to do many of thethings that he does. What would one of my little boys do, I wonder, ifhe were carried miles away from home and dropped in a place he had neverseen? Why, he would be too frightened to do anything but cry; and yetthere are many birds, who, when taken away a long distance, will perchon top of the weather-vane, perhaps, make up their little bits of mindswhich way to go, and then with a whir-r-r-r fly off over house-tops andchurch-steeples, towns and cities, rivers and meadows, until they reachthe place from which they started.
Look at the nest for the last time now, and see the soft, lovely liningof ducks' feathers and lambs' wool.
Why do you suppose it was made so velvet soft and fleecy? Why, for thelittle birds that were coming, of course; and sure enough, one morningafter the tiny house was all finished, I leaned far out of the windowand saw five little eggs cuddled close together; but I did not get muchchance to look at those precious eggs, I can tell you; for the mammabird could scarcely spare a minute to go and get a drink of water, soafraid was she that they would miss the warmth of her downy wings.
There she sat in the long May days and warm, still nights: who but amamma would be so sweet and kind and patient?--but SHE didn't mind thetrouble--not a bit. Bless her dear little bird-heart, they were not eggsto her: she could see them even now as they were going to be, her fivecunning, downy, feathery birdlings, chirping and fluttering under herwings; so she never minded the ache in her back or the cramp in herlegs, but sat quite still at home, though there were splendid picnicsin the strawberry patches and concerts on the fence rails, and all thefather birds, and all the mother birds that were not hatching eggs, werehaving a great deal of fun this beautiful weather. At last all was over,and I was waked up one morning by such a chirping and singing--such afluttering and flying--I knew in a minute that where the night beforethere had been two birds and five eggs, now there were seven birds andnothing but egg-shells in the green willow-tree!
The papa oriole would hardly wait for me to dress, but flew on and offthe window-sill, seeming to say, "Why don't you get up? why don't youget up? I have five little birds; they came out of the shells this verymorning, so hungry that I can't get enough for them to eat! Why don'tyou get up, I say? I have five little birds, and I am taking care ofthem while my wife is off taking a rest!"
They were five scrawny, skinny little things, I must say; for you knowbirds don't begin by being pretty like kittens and chickens, but lookvery bare and naked, and don't seem to have anything to show but a big,big mouth which is always opening and crying "Yip, yip, yip!"
Now I think you are wondering why I happen to have this nest, and howI could have taken away the beautiful house from the birds. Ah, that isthe sad part of the story, and I wish I need not tell it to you.
When the baby birds were two days old, I went out on a long rideinto the country, leaving everything safe and happy in the old greenwillow-tree; but when I came back, what do you think I found on theground under the branches?----A wonderful hang-bird's nest cut from thetree, and five poor still birdies lying by its side. Five slender necksall limp and lifeless,--five pairs of bright eyes shut forever! andoverhead the poor mamma and papa twittering and crying in the way littlebirds have when they are frightened and sorry--flying here and there,first down to the ground and then up in the tree, to see if it wasreally true.
While I was gone two naughty boys had come into the garden to dig forangle-worms, and all at once they spied the oriole's nest.
"O Tommy, here's a hang-bird's nest, such a funny one! there's nobodyhere, let's get it," cried Jack.
Up against the tree they put the step-ladder; and although it was almostout of reach, a sharp jack-knife cut the twigs that held it up, and downit fell from the high tree with a heavy thud on the hard earth, and thefive little orioles never breathed again! Of course the boys didn't knowthere were any birdies in the nest, or they wouldn't have done it forthe world; but that didn't make it any easier for the papa and mammabird.
Now, dear children, never let me hear you say, "It's no matter, they'reonly birds, they don't care."
Think about this nest: how the mother and father worked at it, weavinghair and string and wool together, day by day! Think how the patientmamma sat on the eggs, dreaming of the time when she should have fivelittle singing, flying birds to care for, to feed and to teach! and thento have them live only two short days! Was it not dreadful to lose herbeautiful house and dear little children both at once?
Never forget that just as your own father and mother love their dearlittle girls and boys, so God has made the birds love their littlefeathery children that are bo
rn in the wonderful nests he teaches themto build.
The Story Hour: A Book for the Home and the Kindergarten Page 3
