BOBOLIJSTK. 



DOLICHOirrX obyzivortis. 



THE mere mention of his name incites merriment. 

 Bobolink is the embodiment of frolic song, the 

 one inimitable operatic singer of the feathered stage. 

 Though the oriole has a stronger and more commanding 

 voice, and the thrushes far surpass him in deep, pure and 

 soul-stirring tones, he has no rival; even the mocking- 

 bird is dumb in his presence. In the midst of his 

 rollicking song he falls with bewitching effect into a 

 ventriloquous strain, subdued, as if his head were under 

 his wing ; but soon the first force returns with a swell, 

 and he shoots up into the air from the slender twig upon 

 which he has been singing and swinging in the wind, 

 plying just the tips of his wings to paddle himself along 

 in his reckless hilarity, twisting his head this way and 

 that, increasing in ecstasy till he and his song drop 

 together to the ground. 



During his short but glorious reign bobolink takes the 

 open meadow, the broad sunlight all day long. When 

 he would sing his best, he invariably opens with a few 

 tentative notes, softly and modestly given, as much as to 

 say, " Eeally, I fear I 'm not quite in the mood to-day." 

 It is a musical gurgling : — 



