BOB WHITE. 21 



the buds to swell upon the trees, and Nature commences 

 to rouse herself from her winter's sleep, the clear, sharp 

 call of the male bird is heard, as perched upon some 

 fence rail or other elevated place in the field, he utters 

 the well-known sounds "Bob White, ah! Bob White," 

 expressing the latent passion of love that begins to 

 awaken in his brave little heart. The united family that 

 happily has kept together throughout the trying winter 

 has become separated, and every male member is occu- 

 pied with the important duty of seeking a mate. Each 

 little feathered breast is swelling with the fires of love, 

 and with proud carriage and eyes flashing with the desire 

 that permeates his whole body, the cock endeavors to 

 secure the attention of the object of his choice, to win 

 her admiration, to attract her by his proud bearing, to 

 cause her to listen to his sweet, earnest tones, and to 

 reciprocate the love he offers so ardently. Ah, but she 

 is coy, the little buff-throated hen! only looks at her 

 lover from beneath the shelter of some bush, and makes 

 no reply to his ringing love song, that is uttered with in- 

 creasing power and passion. He leaves his coign of 

 vantage and runs toward her, puffs up his feathers for 

 an instant, and then leaps upon some low stump and 

 pours out the clear '* Bob White," like a challenge to all 

 the world to come and dispute his love. Again he draws 

 near, but she shyly moves away, looking back at him 

 meanwhile, as if half inviting him to follow. No persua- 

 sion is needed for such an ardent knight, and he is by her 

 side, telling his love in sweet, low tones that cause her 

 to listen with less reserve to her gallant cavalier, who 

 ever presses nearer, and bows before her, until capti- 

 vated by his handsome presence and melodious voice, 

 and with an answering love springing up in her own 

 breast at length she yields a timorous consent. 



