114 OUR NATIVE BIKDS 



2. Give me silent meditation 



On the marsh and lonely beach ; 

 It's in keeping with my station, 

 For the crowd, I'm out of reach. 



3. Music ! What do you call music ? 



What these hopping pigmies pipe? 

 I must say it is too rustic, 

 Simply cannot bear the like. 



4. Let the wind roar through the rushes, 



Let the waves plash and the rain ! 

 Laugh of loon and scream of eagle, 

 Let me hear the bullfrog's strain ! 



5. Boys, who ever saw me fishing, 



Know that I but seldom lurch, 

 When I wade to spear the pickerel, 

 Catfish, sunfish, pike, and perch. 



6. If you boys would learn of fishing, 



Come and watch me with the brant, 

 Near the isle of tall wild cherries, 

 With the coot and cormorant. 



7. Boys, if you would master fishing, 



Patience you must have in store. 



Meet me on the Devil's Backbone, 1 



There I'll teach you all the lore. 



[Tall boy of twelve to fourteen, coat and vest slate gray, 

 trousers and stockings black, wings slate gray.] 



1 Ridge of boulders in a lake. 



