THE BOBOLINK | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 30, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 18.

THE BOBOLINK.

Leaning idly over a fence a few days since we noticed a little six-year-old “lord of creation” amusing himself in the grass by watching the frolicsome flight of birds which were playing around him. At length a beautiful bobolink perched himself upon a drooping bough of an apple tree, which extended within a few yards of the place where the urchin sat, and maintained his position, apparently unconscious of the close proximity of one whom birds usually consider a dangerous neighbor.

The boy seemed astonished at his impudence, and, after regarding him steadily for a minute or two, obeying the instinct of his baser part, he picked up a stone lying at his feet, and was preparing to throw it, steadying himself carefully for a good aim.

The little arm was reached backward without alarming the bird, and Bob was within an ace of danger, when lo, his throat swelled, and forth came nature’s plea: “A link—a link—a-l-i-n-k—Bob-o-link—Bob-o-link—a-no-weet—a-no-weet,”—“I know it—I know——a link—a link, a link—don’t throw it—throw it!—throw it!” And he didn’t. Slowly the little arm subsided to its natural position, and the despised stone dropped. The minstrel charmed the murderer. We heard the songster through, and watched his unharmed flight, as did the boy, with a sorrowful countenance.

Anxious to hear an expression of the little fellow’s feeling, we approached him and inquired:—

“Why didn’t you stone him, my boy? You might have killed him and carried him home.”

The poor little fellow looked up doubtingly, as tho he suspected our meaning, and with an expression half shame and half sorrow, he replied:—

“Couldn’t; ’cos he sung so.”

The angels who sang at the creation whispered to the child’s heart. The bird was saved, and God was glorified by the deed. Dear little boys, don’t stone the birds.—Clinton Courant.