Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;
Brood, kind creature; you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.

Chee, chee, chee.

4. Modest and shy as a nun is she,

One weak chirp is her only note, Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;
Never was I afraid of man;
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.

Chee, chee, chee.

5. Six white eggs on a bed of hay,

Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There, as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might:

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;
Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.

Chee, chee, chee.

6. Soon as the little ones chip the shell

Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seed for the hungry brood.

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.

Chee, chee, chee.

7. Robert of Lincoln at length is made

Sober with work and silent with care; Off is his holiday garment laid,

Half forgotten that merry air,

And murmured, with a mild surprise
And pleasant twinkle of the eyes,
“That funeral must have been a trick,
Or corpses drive at double quick;
I shouldn't wonder, I declare,

If Brother Murray made the prayer!"
And this is all I have to say
About the parson's poor old bay,

The same that drew the one-horse shay.
Moral for which this tale is told:
A horse can trot, for all he's old.

Robert of Lincoln.

W. C. BRYANT.

1. Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame,

Over the mountain-side or mead,

Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;

Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers,
Chee, chee, chee.

2. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,
Wearing a bright black wedding coat,

White are his shoulders and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note,
Bob-o'-link, 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.

3. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,

Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life,

Broods in the grass while her husband sings

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;

Brood, kind creature; you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.

4. Modest and shy as a nun is she,
One weak chirp is her only note,
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;
Never was I afraid of man;

Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, chee, chee.

5. Six white eggs on a bed of hay,

Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There, as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;

Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.

6. Soon as the little ones chip the shell Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seed for the hungry brood. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink;

This new life is likely to be

Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee.

7. Robert of Lincoln at length is made

Sober with work and silent with care;

Off is his holiday garment laid,

Half forgotten that merry air,

2. And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you say you

can mend it with glue! As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just suppose

it was you! You might make her look all mended; but what do I care

for looks? Why, glue's for chairs and tables and toys, and the backs

of books!

3. My dolly! my own little daughter! O, but it's the awfulest

crack! It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her poor

head went whack Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the little

shelf! Now, nursey, what makes you remind me? I know that I

did it myself!

4. I think you must be crazy! You'll get her another

head! What good would forty heads do her ? I tell you my

dolly is dead! And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant new

spring hat! And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie on that

horrid cat!

5. When my mamma gave me that ribbon-I was playing

out in the yardShe said to me most expressly, "Here's a ribbon for

Hildegarde.” And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde saw me

do it; But I said to myself, “0, never mind; I don't believe she

knew it."

6. But I know that she knew it now; and I just believe,

I do, That her poor little heart as broken, and so her head O, my baby! my little baby! I wish my head had been

hit! For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked a bit.

7. But, since the darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of

course.

We will take my little wagon, nurse; and you shall be the

horse; And I'll walk behind, and cry; and we'll put her in this

you see This dear little box-and we'll bury her under the maple

tree.

8. And papa will make me a tombstone like the one he made

for my bird; And he'll put what I tell him on it; yes, every single

word. I shall say, “Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, who

is dead; She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her