The Bobolink 



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and ladies have thronged our streets, and ducal parties have put up at 

 our "best hotels." We have dined with Maharajahs, and danced with 

 Spanish grandees. We have listened to high-brows from Boston — have 

 even gone to hear 'em — twice. The Russian ballet regards us as a private 



possession, and French 

 artistes, who have never 

 seen Dakota, visit us 

 every year. Captains of 

 industry from Chicago 

 have reclaimed our goat- 

 pastures under pretense 

 of playing golf, and 

 social leaders from 

 Gotham hold alternate 

 court at Pasadena and 

 Santa Barbara. It is all 

 very flattering, very 

 wonderful ; but please do 

 not expect us to get 

 excited. They are wel- 

 come, of course, or would 

 be if they didn't spoil the 

 cattle ranges. But, 

 really, a multimillionaire 

 more or less doesn't mat- 

 ter, and what is a duke, 

 anyhow? But wake up, 

 California! the BOBO- 

 LINKS HAVE COME! 

 Robert of Lincoln! 

 apostle of mirth! Mer- 

 riest madcap artist of 

 spring ! Symbol of divine 

 unrest and divine — oh, divine Hope! He is here! Turn out, you Native 

 Sons! and muster, you sons of millionaires, to do him honor! You whose 

 fathers struck oil,'or whose grandsires struck pay dirt, what will you ever 

 strike one-half so rich as this fountain of song, this well of gladness, pure 

 and unrestrained! Hail! blessed brother bird! And hail! tumultuous 

 minstrel Bobolink! 



It was the chief surprise of a visit paid in 1912 to the Surprise Valley 

 in Modoc County to find the Bobolink common and, apparently, breeding. 

 Although the season (June 30) would have been counted late at a lower 



^«(?r., 



'V 



BOBOLINKS. MALE AN'D FEMALE 



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