ON THE NORTH SHORE AGAIN 107 



I followed the road as it led me among 

 them. A savanna sparrow had been dodg- 

 ing along the edge of a ditch near the gate ; 

 titlark voices at once became common, and 

 after a turn or two I saw before me a bunch 

 of shore larks dusting themselves in the 

 sandy middle of the track. They were mak- 

 ing thorough work of it, crowding their 

 breasts and necks, and even the sides of 

 their heads into the soil, with much shaking 

 of feathers afterward. 



The road brought me to a beach, where 

 were two or three houses, and, across the 

 way, a pond stocked with wooden geese and 

 ducks, with an underground blind for gun- 

 ners in the side of the hill. Some delights 

 are so keen that it is worth elaborate prepa- 

 rations to enjoy them. Here the titlarks 

 were in extraordinary force, and I lingered 

 about the spot for half an hour, awaiting the 

 longspurs that might be hoped for in their 

 company. Hoped for, but nothing more. 

 I was still too early, perhaps. 



Well, their absence, the fact of it once 

 accepted, left me free-minded for the main 

 object of my trip. I would go up the hill, 



