"That is just what the bird did, Fred. At first it was all open work, and easy; but as the nest was getting nearly finished, the bill was shoved in under that loop and opened widely, and the grass passed through, and so on one after the other. And the nest could not have been made as you see it now except for that singular way of using the bill.
"But I must tell you more of their doings. They soon learned that their food came from birds, and that it was because I skinned the birds, and they learned just how I did it. If a bird lay on the table, they gave no attention to him till I sat down ready for work. Then every oriole flew immediately to the table; but each one looked around carelessly, as though he had come there by accident, and had nothing particular on his mind. They would walk about, and try to pry open books and whatever else came in their way, and very often I waited some time, just to try them and see what they would do. I would profess to read something, as though skinning a bird was not in my thoughts at all.
"But no; they knew better; one would look up at me, and then another, and then they would run about again, but all the while keeping a sly and cunning watch of me; they knew they would get the better of me in a few minutes. For the instant I took up the bird, turned him on his back, and raised my knife, a rush was made, and there they stood watching for the first bite.
"It was a most comical sight, and time and time again I used to laugh to see them. I parted the bird's feathers with two fingers of my left hand, almost always with an oriole on each finger, while three little heads were thrust close down, and as I cut through the skin; in went three bills digging and tearing for a mouthful each."
AN ORIOLE FEEDING HIS MATE.
"Oh, Uncle William, what a strange thing! Do tell me what ever became of the little orioles! What did you do with them in the winter, when there were no birds for them to eat?"
"Two of them, the female and one of the males, died very shortly after they were fully grown. The other used to fly in and out of the window as he pleased, into the orchard, and across to the woods. The first time he went out he seemed quite uncomfortable, and called very loudly for me to come and bring him back again, and when I climbed up the apple tree to him, he hopped on my finger, and settled himself down in a contented way that showed he was very glad to be at home again. But after a number of excursions he learned to prefer living out-of-doors, and doubtless went to the South in the autumn with the others of his kind."