290 THE BOBOLINK. 



More than once he slackens the chase for a few minutes, 

 alighting and throwing in a few of his finest musical flour- 

 ishes, and again renews it as ardently as ever, till at length 

 he completely wins the object of his passion. Now they are 

 seen together for a short time, and then the modest female 

 retires among the clover and the taller grasses of the lux- 

 uriant meadow; and, scooping out a rather deep cavity in 

 the ground, arranges a frail, loose nest of dried grasses, and 

 lays her 5 eggs — averaging about .90X-67, white tinged 

 with brown, spotted, blotched, and clouded with several 

 shades of brown, and also a neutral shade of brownish-lilac. 

 She adheres most closely to her nest. In walking across 

 the field you may almost step on her before she will leave 

 her treasures. Then flying only a few feet, she is instantly 

 out of sight again; and unless you are a ready observer, or 

 have some knowledge of birds and nests, you will be puzzled 

 to know what you have found. As the Bobolink raises but 

 one brood, and in the thick grass, some time before the hay 

 is cut, its nest is but seldom seen by the farmer. 



During the whole period of incubation the male is one 

 of the happiest of birds. Without any perceptible sense of 

 care, or of any misgiving whatever, he keeps up his gay per- 

 formances of waltzing, flight, and song, with but little 

 intermission, his beautiful figure adding greatly to the charms 

 of the summer landscape, and his far-reaching melody 

 harmonizing grandly with the joyousness of the season, 

 and ever cheering the husbandman in his long hours of toil. 



If the Bay- winged Sparrow is " the poet of the plain, 

 unadorned pastures," the Bobolink is the poet of the luxu- 

 riant blooming meadows, announcing the beauty and the 

 promise of the fruit-blossoms, and hymning the bright hues 

 and the fragrance of the clover. It is the utterance of all 

 the youth and joy of spring — of an unbounded hilarity. 



