Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountainside or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. "Bobolink, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers, Chee, chee, chee!" Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat, White are his shoulders and white his crest. Hear him call in his merry note: "Bobolink, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Look what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine! Chee, chee, chee!" Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet in plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: "Bobolink, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink; Brood, kind creature, you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here! Chee, chee, chee!" --Bryant. ALL ABOUT THE BOBOLINK OR RICEBIRD SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS Male arrives north middle of May.--Female comes some ten or twelve days later--travel generally by night and in flocks.--Flies south from August to October. Song is most musical and sweet, expressing joy and careless happiness--the song of the female is but a short, sweet "Chink, chink."--While the young are being cared for, the male does not sing as he does earlier in the season, but takes up the plaintive "chink" of his mate. Male in spring is black with pale yellow markings on back and wings and tail. Yellow spot on back of neck--a patch of white on breast and other white markings. Female pale yellow beneath--upper parts generally brown--two dark stripes on top of the head. In autumn plumage of male resembles female. Nest of grasses well hidden by thick leaves and stems.--Usually built in clump of grasses and always on the ground and very shallow. Eggs are pale blue with dark brown spots.--Four or five in number.--Young birds when fully feathered are so alike that in a flock young cannot be distinguished from old. THE SEA-DOVES AND THE GREAT BLUE HERON [Illustration: Great Blue Heron] BESIDE THE SEA One hot August day Phyllis went to the seashore to live. "Such fun," she cried, as the train drew up at the seaside station. "Such fun as I shall have playing in the sand and wading in the water." It was not half an hour before she was running along the beach beside the cliffs. Her feet were bare, and she wriggled her toes in the sand and splashed into the puddles of water. Presently she saw a number of little birds running along the beach and flying over the water. "How swiftly they fly, and how well they dive," she said. "How easily they swim, and they sometimes settle on the waves and rest. I wish they would come nearer!"