104 
OUR NATIVE BIRDS 
The Rose-breasted Grosbeak 
There’s another baneful nuisance 
By which we do suffer much, — 
The professional bird collector, 
That bad man who steals our eggs. 
Nothing does he with our bodies, 
No use makes he of our eggs ; 
Just collects for all blood money, 
Or locks all up in his case. 
Little he cares for our habits, 
Nothing cares he for our song, 
All the boys that see him prowling 
Surely take to prowling too. 
Killing, stealing, — he calls taking ; 
Oh, protect us from this fiend ! 
Uncle Sam 
[To the attorneys and the public] 
If you ever catch that knave, 
Ill put him in a dungeon 
Where he’ll never hurt bird or beast. 
The Blue-winged or the Green-winged Teal 
It is with no little chagrin 
That we also make complaint 
Against men that go out hunting, 
Against boys that live in camps, 
When their sultry schoolroom closes, 
When blue flags in marshes bloom. 
