embers of the Blackbird family called Cowbirds, because they
follow the cows as they feed, in order to pick up worms and bugs that
are shaken out of the grass. But I am sorry to say that these birds are
the vagabonds of Birdland--the tramps I told you of."

The Baltimore Oriole

Length seven and a half inches.

Male: orange flame-color, the head, neck, and upper half of back black;
wings black, edged with white; tail black and orange, about half and
half.

Female: not clear orange and black, but the former color much duller,
and the latter mixed up with gray, olive, and brown.

A Summer Citizen of the United States east of the Rocky Mountains, north
to Canada, travelling to Central America for the winter.

A worthy Citizen, fine musician, and a good neighbor. Belongs to the
guilds of Ground Gleaners, Tree Trappers, and Seed Sowers.

THE COWBIRD

(THE TRAMP)

"Cluck-see! cluck-see!" called a Cowbird, flying over the wall to join
the others in the pasture.

"What a hoarse ugly cry!" said Nat.

"Yes, but not more disagreeable than the bird's habits. I will tell you
what happens every season to some poor Warbler, Sparrow, or Vireo, on
account of this strange bird.

"A Song Sparrow builds her nest in the grass; an egg is laid, the bird
looks proudly at it, and may perhaps fly off for a few minutes.
Meanwhile, peeping and spying, along comes a Cowbird. She wants to lay
an egg, too, but has no home, because she is too lazy and shiftless to
build one. She sees the Sparrow's nest and thinks, 'Ah, hah! that bird
is smaller than I am, and cannot push my egg out; I will leave it
there!' This she does very quickly, and slips away again.

[Illustration: Cowbird]

"When the Sparrow comes home she may wonder at the strange egg, and
perhaps be able to push it out of the nest; but more likely she takes no
notice of it, as it is so much like her own, and lets it stay. If she
does this, that egg is only the beginning of trouble. It is larger than
her own, so it gets more warmth and hatches more quickly. Then the young
Cowbird grows so fast that it squeezes the little Sparrows dreadfully,
sometimes quite out of the nest, and eats so much that they are half or
wholly starved. The poor Sparrow and her mate must sometimes think what
a big child it is; but they feed it kindly until it can fly--sometimes
even after it leaves the nest. Then it goes back to join the flock its
tramp parents belong to, without so much as saying