It sounded very pretty, the three whistles--and then--what do you think?

Not far from the weeping willow or the "Crying Tree," was an elm tree. It
was taller than the willow and darker green.

In it something shone very bright--like an orange, only it moved.

"It's an oriole," said the Toyman.

They looked hard and, sure enough, there among the leaves was the prettiest
bird they had ever seen. He had an orange-coloured body and black wings.

His nest was on the end of a branch. It was grey-coloured and hung low like
a little bag, made of knitted grey wool. Father and Mother Oriole had made
it themselves. Mother Oriole is there sitting in it on little eggs.

But Father Oriole heard the three willow whistles and he turned and began
to whistle back--oh such a pretty song. It was really prettier than the
sound of the three willow whistles for it had different notes and a tune
like the songs Mother plays on the piano.

"We must watch that nest," said the Toyman. "Some day soon we will see the
baby orioles."

But there--the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise-Face is scolding again. So the
story must stop for tonight.

When you're asleep if you listen very hard, maybe you can hear the three
happy children blowing the willow whistles, and maybe the beautiful oriole
will answer back.