was the first time that he had heard the 

 Kinglet sing. He says : "The bird was 

 in the tree tops in the most impassable 

 bit of woods near my house. The longer 

 and more eagerly I followed the unseen 

 singer the greater the mystery became. 

 It seemed impossible that a bird which I 

 supposed was at least as large as a blue- 

 bird could escape observation in the 

 partly leaved trees. The song was mel- 

 low and flute-like, and loud enough to 

 be heard several hundred yards; an in- 

 tricate warble past imitation or descrip- 

 tion, and rendered so admirably that I 

 never hear it now without feeling an im- 

 pulse to applaud. The bird is so small, 

 the song so rich and full, that one is re- 

 minded of a chorister with the voice of 

 an adult soprano. To extend the com- 



parison, one watches this gifted but un- 

 conscious musician flitting about the 

 trees with somewhat the feeling that one 

 observes the choir-boy doffing his sur- 

 plice and joining his comrades for a 

 game of tag." 



The Ruby-crowned Kinglet has been 

 called a "dainty monarch." Dr. Henry 

 Van Dyke calls him "Little King," and 

 in his poem, "The Kinglet," says : 



"Never king by right divine 

 Ruled a richer realm than mine! 

 What are lands and golden crowns, 

 Armies, fortresses and towns. 

 Jewels, scepters, robes and rings, 

 What are these to song and wings? 

 Everywhere that I can fly 

 There I own the earth and sky; 

 Everywhere that I can sing 

 There I'm happy as a king. 



A WESTERN MEADOWLARK. 



The Meadowlark to which my story 

 relates was reared in a beautiful, hair 

 lined cradle sunk below the level of the 

 unbroken sod and overshadowed by a 

 thick tuft of long coarse grass, upon the 

 far stretching prairie. 



He shared the nest with four other 

 fledglings who filled it to overflowing, 

 while their growing appetites demanded 

 the almost constant attention of their 

 devoted parents who foraged far and 

 wide, catching insects which flaunted 

 their bright wings among the prairie 

 grasses, or delving deep in the cultivated 

 soil and drawing forth the corpulent 

 grubs. 



Despite the attention their offspring 

 demanded, they failed not to break the 

 prairie's stillness with the clear and varied 

 notes of their wonderous song, so far 

 surpassing that of their eastern relatives. 

 The male seemed to delight in frequent- 

 ing the roadside and trustful of the 

 chance passerby, he would perch upon a 

 weed or nodding grass stalk and sing his 

 song of hope and cheer until the human 

 listener approached so near as plainly to 

 distinguish the swelling of his yellow 



throat ; or if discovered upon the ground 

 he would often half spread his wings, 

 stoop lower and throwing backward his 

 beautiful head pour forth a soft sweet 

 trill of gurgling notes before soaring far 

 across the flower bedecked plain. 



The summer was well advanced when 

 their young were large enough to assume 

 the responsibilities of providing for them- 

 selves, for when the first nest had long 

 been completed and the young were daily 

 expected, a fire swept across the prairie, 

 and their nest, with many others in its 

 path, disappeared as if by magic. Only the 

 charred shells lay upon the naked ground 

 while the saddened owners sought a new 

 site and prepared for the rearing of an- 

 other family. 



The day was intensely warm when the 

 young Meadowlarks started forth upon 

 their first hunting expedition alone and 

 unaided. At noonday the birds had 

 hushed their songs and with slightly 

 extended wings and panting breasts 

 seemed to join the drooping flowers and 

 grain, fast ripening before its time, in 

 their silent appeal for rain. At last it 

 came, but with it came the dreaded hail 

 and all living things sought shelter while 



