A PIONEER 
boy’s first attempt to whistle. Two notes, | 
a little catch, two more, and sometimes only 
a quaver was the usual result. But they 
were very proud of it and kept at it early and 
late. I suppose it could hardly be called 
a song, and yet it was so evidently an 
attempt to give voice to their emotions of 
joy that it made sweet music in my ears. 
The father did not sing much after the 
nestlings were hatched. He whistled occa- 
sionally very early in the morning or very 
late in the afternoon, but after the bobolinks 
came the music of the meadow larks was 
hushed. He still chose the same fence 
post, but his call was one of warning and 
anxiety rather than delight. Even after his 
family cares were over, and the babies all 
flown, he could not refrain from worrying. 
Evidently he was unable to realize that they 
were nestlings no longer. 
The family seemed to keep eens for 
they were usually to be found in the same 
part of the field, and yet I seldom saw two 
of them side by side on a fence or a tree. 
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