urn again the next
season; or, if he did, the malformation of his song was gone.

I have noticed that the bobolink does not sing the same in different
localities. In New Jersey it has one song; on the Hudson, a slight
variation of the same; and on the high grass-lands of the interior
of the State, quite a different strain,--clearer, more distinctly
articulated, and running off with more sparkle and liltingness. It
reminds one of the clearer mountain air and the translucent spring-water
of those localities. I never could make out what the bobolink says in
New Jersey, but in certain districts in this State his enunciation is
quite distinct. Sometimes he begins with the word _gegue, gegue._
Then again, more fully, _be true to me, Clarsy, be true to me, Clarsy,
Clarsy,_ thence full tilt into his inimitable song, interspersed in
which the words _kick your slipper, kick your slipper,_ and temperance,
temperance (the last with a peculiar nasal resonance), are plainly
heard. At its best, it is a remarkable performance, a unique
performance, as it contains not the slightest hint or suggestion, either
in tone or manner or effect, of any other bird-song to be heard. The
bobolink has no mate or parallel in any part of the world. He stands
alone. There is no closely allied species. He is not a lark, nor a
finch, nor a warbler, nor a thrush, nor a starling (though classed
with the starlings by late naturalists). He is an exception to many
well-known rules. He is the only ground-bird known to me of marked and
conspicuous plumage. He is the only black and white field-bird we
have east of the Mississippi, and, what is still more odd, he is black
beneath and white above,--the reverse of the fact in all other cases.
Preeminently a bird of the meadow during the breeding season, and
associated with clover and daisies and buttercups as no other bird is,
he yet has the look of an interloper or a newcomer, and not of one to
the manner born.

The bobolink has an unusually full throat, which may help account for
his great power of song. No bird has yet been found that could imitate
him, or even repeat or suggest a single note, as if his song were the
product of a new set of organs. There is a vibration about it, and a
rapid running over the keys, that is the despair of other songsters. It
is said that the mockingbird is dumb in the presence of the bobolink.
My neighbor has an English skylark that was hatched and reared in
captivity. The bird i