9 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
brown little feet, tail pointed and used as 
a third foot, hence supported on the reed. 
Nesting and Nest—Males have as 
many partners as there are “years in their 
little, lives.” The male’s “girl that he 
left behind him” the previous year may 
have gone off “with a handsomer fellow.” 
The nest is hard to find, concealed in hay 
fields. After five years I found one on 
the prairie, where, like Thoreau, I had a 
long search and all the time it was within 
twelve feet of me. The little ones soon 
scamper away, and like little Bob-whites 
cannot be found. 
Voice—“A delicious song,” “Acrobatic 
vocalization,” “A feathered extravaganza,” 
“Intoxicated vocalist,” “Artistic comed¬ 
ian,” “Music gone mad.” 
“The Bob-o-link never ceases to worry 
the most superficial or profound geniuses 
of the world, from Emerson all along the 
line with Bryant, Irving, Thoreau, as to 
his voice.” He sings in and through the 
air. 
Minot interprets him thus: 
"‘Torn Noodle, Tom Noodle, 
You owe me, 
You owe me, ten shillings and sixpence. 
I paid you, I paid you ! You didn’t, you 
didn’t, 
You lie, vou lie, vou cheat!” 
Another: 
“How about your cart? 
Your wheel’s off*. 
Linch pin, linch pin, lincb pin. 
Old Mrs. Parker.” 
Burroughs: 
“Ha, ha, ha! 
I must have some fun. 
Miss Silver Thimble, 
If I break every heart in the window, 
See, see see! 
There is another description of the 
Bobolink’s song which was first printed 
in Bird’s Congress book of the World’s 
Fair. It was given to me by Ex-Secre¬ 
tary of Agriculture, General Leduc, by 
word of mouth from memory. I think it 
one of the very best that has ever been 
given: 
“Bobolink, Bobolink, 
Chewink, Chewink, 
Che-weed le-weed le. 
Never let Mary Link 
Gad about with Harry Hoss, Muckle 
Weaver, 
Nor shall she marry Michael, Mangle, 
Wurtzell.” 
“When Nature had made all her birds 
And had no cares to think on, 
She gave a rippling laugh, 
And out flew Bob-o-Linkon.” 
In my boyhood days I have often sung 
with my playmates this ditty set to a 
tune in two sharps, and published in the 
Juvenile Choir in 1845: 
BOR-O-LINKUM. 
Tinkle, tinkle, Mister Winkum, 
I’m a merry Bob-o-Linkuin. 
Prithee tell me what’s the matter 
That vou make such a clatter? 
Can’t you leave us honest folks 
To sing our songs and crack our jokes? 
It is cruel, Mister Winkum, 
Thus to bother Bob-o-Linkum. 
I had thought the meadows mine 
With their blossoms all so fine, 
And I make my little nest 
’Neath the clover all so blest. 
But you come, O naughty Winkum, 
All unheeding Bob-o-Linkum, 
And you swing your saucy blade 
M T here mv little nest is made, 
And you cut the blooming clover 
Which did wrap my young ones over. 
Get you gone, you ugly Winkum, 
Leave the field to Bob-o-Linkum; 
Let him on his light wing hover 
O’er the summer scented clover. 
Let him sing his merry song, 
And he’ll thank vou all the day long. 
•J c_j 
G. Buffett Pratt. 
