176 A FEATHERED PREACHER. 



persons who were passing, and who all declared they had never wit- 

 nessed anything like it before; indeed it might well be an object of 

 astonishment unto the wide, upturned, wondering eyes of cockneys, 

 for although I have for the last 20 years been accustomed to be abroad 

 in the severest seasons, and not an unmindful observer, I never saw 

 such large and such continuous flights of birds. How long they 

 may have been passing over before I came, I of course cannot say ; 

 I only know that when I left, after being detained upwards of an 

 hour by the phenomenon, * the cry was still they come/ 



In Canada and Australia the emigrants sadly miss the 

 sweet song which delighted them in early days, and 

 attempts have recently been made to introduce this bird 

 into those colonies. Let us hope that they will be 

 successful. 



FromBeeton's ' Book of Home Pets' we take the follow- 

 ing account of 



HOW A SKYLARK PREACHED A SERMON. 



Stories as well as poems concerning the Skylark abound; but 

 one of the best, both for interest and as showing the constant love 

 of Englishmen for this truly English bird, came to my knowledge a 

 few months ago. 



As you are doubtless aware, there is no such thing as a song bird 

 in Australia : there are birds who chatter, birds who shriek, but no 

 bird that sings. Well, there was a young man who went from 

 England as a gold-digger, and was lucky enough to make some 

 money, and prudent enough to take care of it. He opened * a store ' 

 (a sort of rough shop where everything from candles to coffins are 

 sold), at a place called ' The Ovens/ a celebrated gold-field about 

 two hundred miles from Melbourne. Still continuing to prosper, he, 

 like a dutiful son, wrote home for his father and mother, requesting 

 them to come out to him, and, if they possibly could, to bring with 

 them a Lark. So a Lark was procured, and in due time the old 

 folks, with their feathered charge, took ship and departed from 

 England. The old man, however, took the voyage so much to heart 

 that he died, and the old woman and the Lark landed in sound 

 health at Melbourne, and were speedily forwarded to Mr. Welsted's 

 store at The Ovens. 



It was on a Tuesday when they arrived, and the next morning 

 the Lark was hung outside the tent, and at once commenced piping 

 up. The effect was electric. Sturdy diggers big men with hairy 

 faces and great brown hands paused in the midst of their work, 

 and listened reverently. Drunken, brutal diggers left unfinished the 

 blasphemous sentence, and looked bewildered and ashamed. Far 

 and near the news spread like lightning. ' Have you heard the 



