BOB THE VAGABOND 



And Bob and his band had been gay of voice. The flock 

 of them had gathered in tree-tops and flooded the day 

 with such meUow, laughing melodies as the world can 

 have only in springtime — and only as long as the bobo- 

 links last. 



The ways of the springtime are for the spring, and 

 those of the autumn for the fall of the year. So Bob, 

 who, when northward bound a few months before, had 

 taken part in the grand Festival of Song, now that he 

 was southward bound, partook of the great Feast of the 

 Vagabonds, giving himself whole-heartedly to each cere- 

 mony in turn, as a bobolink should, for such are the 

 time-honored customs of his folk. 



Honored for how long a time we do not know. Longer 

 than the memory of man has known the rice-fields of 

 South Carolina! Days long before that, when elephants 

 trod upon that ground, did those great beasts hear the 

 spring song of the bobolinks? Is the answer to that ques- 

 tion buried in the rocks with the elephants? Bob did n't 

 know. He flew over, with never a thought in his little 

 head but for the Great Rice Trail leading him southward 

 to Florida. 



While there, some travelers would have gone about 

 and watched men cut sponges, and have found out why 

 Florida has a Spanish name. But not Bob ! The Feast of 

 the Vagabonds, which had lasted well-nigh all the way 



187 



