SKY LARK. 169 



times the Lark sings on the ground, perched on a clod, or 

 even crouched among the grass, but generally in commencing 

 its song, it starts off, rises perpendicularly or obliquely in the 

 air, with a fluttering motion, and continues it until it has at- 

 tained its highest elevation, which not unfrequently is such as to 

 render the bird scarcely perceptible. Even then, if the weather 

 be calm, you hear its warble coming faintly on the ear at in- 

 tervals. It has been alleged that the Lark ascends in a spiral 

 manner, but my observation does not corroborate the state- 

 ment. In rising, it often passes directly upward, but with the 

 body always horizontal or nearly so, then moves in a curve, 

 and continues thus alternately, but without a continued spiral 

 motion. At first, the motion of the wings is uniformly flutter- 

 ing, but afterwards it shoots them out two or three times suc- 

 cessively at intervals, and when at its greatest height exhibits 

 this action more remarkably. When it descends, the song is 

 not intermitted, but is continued until it approaches the ground, 

 when it usually darts down headlong, and alights abruptly. 

 Frequently it resumes its song after alighting, and continues it 

 for a short time, but more commonly it stops when it has reached 

 the ground. Often the Lark may be seen hovering over a field, 

 in full song, for a considerable time, at a small height. On the 

 4th May 1837, I observed a Lark perched on a half-burnt whin 

 branch, where it remained singing a long time. I have often 

 seen it perch on a wall, and several times on a hawthorn bush 

 in a hedge, but it never, I believe, alights on tall trees. 



The song of the Lark is certainly not musical, for its notes 

 are not finely modulated, nor its tones mellow, but it is cheer- 

 ful and cheering in the highest degree, and protracted beyond 

 all comparison. In a sunny day in April or May, when the 

 grass fields have begun to resume their verdure, it is pleasant 

 to listen to the merry songster that makes the welkin ring with 

 its sprightly notes ; in the sultry month of July, still more 

 pleasant is it to hear its matin hymn while the dew is yet 

 on the corn ; and in winter should you chance to hear the 

 well-known voice on high, it reminds you of the bright days 

 that have gone, and fills you with anticipation of those that 

 are to come. No doubt much of the pleasure derived from the 



