210 RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. 



my study-window ; but these were English sparrows, and 

 de gustibus non est disputandum. I would rather raise 

 Cain with the misguided people who brought these tru- 

 culent little wretches into the country. 



The bird-note that I had heard was nothing but a 

 faint chirp, but then it did not come from a sparrow's 

 throat, but from a prettier one and a wild one, whose 

 owner is never here in summer. Here, then, were all 

 things needful to play "up North," as the children say : 

 snow, ice, cold weather, arctic birds; and so the fun 

 began. I heard a faint chirp, and then an answering one ; 

 then a clear, ringing twitter filled the crisp air, and a 

 great company of horned larks came flying by and settled 

 daintily on the broad expanse of snow before me. So I 

 had not, after all, taken a walk for nothing. 



Of all possible sights of a snowy winter, whether in 

 the open fields or the hoary forests, that of a company of 

 tripping, chirping, merry horned larks is the most beauti- 

 ful. Nor do I wonder that they like so well to be abroad 

 at such a time. Can sunshine be more magnificent than 

 when it gilds acres of untrodden snow ? The larks, at 

 such a time, need little shelter from pursuing foes. The 

 merest ripple in the surface grants them all they need, 

 and sharp eyes are required to follow their movements. 

 This they seem to know ; at all events, they are happy. 

 Yet why do they visit us only at such times ? Do they 

 belong to one of the u old families " among birds, and did 

 they come in with the glaciers, as some of our friends 

 claim to have done " with the Conqueror " ? If so, their 

 love of arctic conditions became so strongly rooted that 

 no subsequent experiences could or have changed it ; and 

 in these later days, when the Eskimo and the glacier 

 have alike retreated toward the arctic circle, the larks, 

 too, have followed in their wake, and only return to the 



