GAME-BIRDS ? 297 
be taken forever off the list of semigame-birds. What if 
this singer of the opera does choose to don a sober travel- 
ling cloak and journey silently? The musician is only 
waiting for the pink blossoms to come on the apple trees, 
and the grass to grow long enough to sway to the wind, 
to again let his music float from the one and give his nest 
to the care of the other, where no human eye, at least, 
may spy it. If we destroy Robert of Lincoln, called 
Bobolink for short, we kill not one but many qualities 
and songs. Did you never hear the rhyme of his merry 
family?” 
THE O’LINCOLN FAMILY 
A flock of merry singing-birds were sporting in a grove; 
Some were warbling cheerily and some were making love. 
There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, Conquedle, — 
A livelier set were never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle : — 
Crying ‘‘ Whew, shew, Wadolincon; see, see, Bobolincon 
Down among the tickle tops, hiding in the buttercups; 
I know the saucy chap; I see his shining cap 
Bobbing there in the clover, — see, see, see!” 
Up flies Bobolincon perching on an apple tree; 
Startled by his rival’s song, quickened by his raillery. 
Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curvetting in the air, 
And merrily he turns about and warns him to beware! 
‘°Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the rushes O! 
Wait a week, till flowers are cheery; wait a week ere you marry, 
Be sure of a house wherein to tarry; 
Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait!” 
Every one’s a funny fellow; every one’s a little mellow; 
Follow, follow, follow, follow, o’er the hill and in the hollow. 
Merrily, merrily, there they hie; now they rise and now they fly ; 
