XV, 



THE BOBOLINK'S NEST O 



MY acquaintance with the bobolink was re- 

 sumed a year later in the lovely summer home 

 of a friend in the Black River Country, within 

 sight of the Adirondack hills. We had found 

 many nests in the woods and orchards, but the 

 meadow had been safe from our feet, partly 

 because of the rich crops that covered it, but 

 more, perhaps, because of the hopelessness of 

 the search over the broad fields for anything so 

 easily hidden as a ground nest. 



One evening, however, our host with a trium- 

 phant air invited us to walk, declaring that he 

 could show us a nest more interesting than we 

 had found. 



The gentleman was a joker, and his state- 

 ments were apt to be somewhat embellished by 

 his vivid imagination, so that we accepted them 

 with caution; but now he looked exultant, and 

 we believed him, especially as he took his hat 

 and stick and started off. 



Down the road we went, a single carriage-way 

 between two banks of grass a yard high. After 



