50 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



enough to keep this man of simple tastes until the fall sea- 

 son, even if the spring run of "herring" were not consid- 

 ered, and in addition to the winter's fur there was always 

 a few mink and other skins, for he was not above taking in 

 a prowling cat, as he said: "A common cat skin is not 

 worth much, but when I've killed her the skin might as 

 well be saved; and I kill 'em on principle, for they kill 

 nesting partridges, rabbits, and every young song bird 

 they can get hold of." 



Port once said to me that a game dealer, hotel keeper, 

 or some other man, wanted him to shoot reedbirds in the 

 fall. "Now, what do you suppose he called reedbirds?" 

 he asked. "They're bobolinks in their fall gray coat 

 and that's goin' too far. I've shot blackbirds and snow- 

 birds for market, and while I was a-shootin' 'em I thought 

 it was small business compared to shootin' quail, pa'tridge 

 an' rabbits; but when it comes to shootin' bobolinks, 

 which makes the medders ring with song in the spring, 

 I'll be durned ef I'll do it! You've off en seen a he bobo- 

 link fly toward his mate an' then set his wings all a-trem- 

 ble as he told her that she was the best she bobolink he 

 ever see and the music! I've off en sot and listened to 

 him when I ought to be goin' on to my herrin' nets in the 

 spring. Of course the bobolink gets gray in the fall, an' 

 he looks just like a she one, but that's his natur', an' I ain't 

 a-goin' to shoot him for market. I'd rather hear him 

 sing, an', besides, he's too small to eat." 



I have always held this opinion, that it is a sin to kill 

 this songster for the morsel of meat it has, and have con- 

 sistently refused to touch "reedbirds" when they have 

 been served at dinners. The bird is nearly extinct in the 

 meadows which it once enlivened, and during a life of 

 thirteen years on Long Island I have not seen a bobolink. 

 Guns, guns, guns ! I sometimes think it would be well if 



