184 AN OCTOBER ABROAD. 



even more rapid and ringing, and is delivered in 

 nearly the same manner ; but our birds all stop when 

 the skylark has only just begun. Away he goes on 

 quivering wing, inflating his throat fuller and fuller, 

 mounting and mounting, and turning to all points of 

 the compass as if to embrace the whole landscape in 

 his song, the notes still raining upon you as distinct 

 as ever, after you have left him far behind. You feel 

 that you need be in no hurry to observe the song lest 

 the bird finish, you walk along, your mind reverts 

 to other things, you examine the grass and weeds, or 

 search for a curious stone, still there goes the bird ; 

 you sit down and study the landscape, or send your 

 thoughts out toward France or Spain, or across the 

 sea to your own land, and yet when you get them 

 back, there is that song above you almost as unceas- 

 ing as the light of a star. This strain indeed suggests 

 some rare pyrotechnic display, musical sounds being 

 substituted for the many-colored sparks and lights. 

 And yet I will add what perhaps the best readers do 

 not need to be told, that neither the lark song, nor any 

 other bird song in the open air and under the sky, is 

 as noticeable a feature as my description of it might 

 imply, or as the poets would have us believe ; and 

 that most persons, not especially interested in birds 

 or their notes, and intent upon the general beauty of 

 the landscape, would probably pass it by unremarked. 

 J suspect that it is a little higher flight than the 

 i^cts will bear out when the writers make the birds 

 go out of sight into the sky. I could easily follon 



