LARKS IN WINTER 109 



appearance of doing so. They look and move like 

 little quails, crowd not, but keep together in a 

 scattered togetherness, and fly, all together, over the 

 hard earth, often seeming to be on the point of 

 alighting, but changing their minds and going on, 

 so that no man — *' no, nor woman either" — can 

 say whether, or when, they will settle. Creeping 

 thus — for, however fast they go, they seem to creep 

 — over the brown fields in winter, the very shape of 

 these little birds seems different to what one has 

 known it. They look flatter, less elongated ; their 

 body is like a small globe, flattened at the poles, 

 and the short little tail projects from it, clearly and 

 sharply. A staid tail it is in winter. I have never 

 seen it either wagged or flirted ; for between the 

 wagging and flirting of a bird's tail, there is, as 

 Chaucer says about two quite different things, " a 

 long and large difference." Much charm in these 

 little birdies, even when winter reigns and 



" Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind." 



Occasionally one hears, from amongst them, a little, 

 short, musical, piping, note — musical, but 



** Oh tamquam mutatus ab illo." 



By February, however, larks are soaring and sing- 

 ing, though, at this time, they do not mount very 

 high. The song, too, is not fully developed, and is, 

 often, no more than a pleasant, musical twittering, 

 especially when two or more chase one another 

 through the air. It is curious how often just three 

 birds together do this, a thing I have many times 



