Field Marks. The bird, black beneath and mostly white on the 
back, which you see hovering over the meadows is a bobolink. 
Song. A jolly, rollicking song, hard to express in words, but when 
once heard easily remembered. "Bobolink, bobolink, spink, spank, spink." 
Those who are not acquainted with the bobolink's song have been 
deprived of an exquisite pleasure. How wonderfully, how beautifully, 
with what perfect abandonment of joy he sings. There is a little 
village in Caledonia county in the very front yards of which I once heard 
After U. S. Biological Survey, 
three bobolinks singing in chorus. How fortunate is that village! They 
delight us with their sweet songs for a short time only. They come to 
us about the middle of May. By the last of August or first of September 
they have reared their young, the male has changed his suit of black and 
white to the sparrow-like dress of the female and young and old have 
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