"I own the country here about," says Bob White;
"At early morn I gayly shout, I'm Bob White!
From stubble field and stake-rail fence
You hear me call, without offense,
I'm Bob White! Bob White!
Sometimes I think I'll ne'er more say, Bob White;
It often gives me quite away, does Bob White;
And mate and I, and our young brood,
When separate--wandering through the wood,
Are killed by sportsmen I invite
By my clear voice--Bob White! Bob White!
Still, don't you find I'm out of sight
While I am saying Bob White, Bob White?"
--C. C. M.
[Illustration: From col. F. M. Woodruff.
CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO.
MOUNTAIN PARTRIDGE.
Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.]