THE SKYLARK. 161 



habits seems cruel indeed. I always look with regret 

 upon any of the feathered tribes when caged, and on 

 none more so than the Skylark, when I see it endeavour 

 to soar and warble as if in the height of its freedom. 

 To reflect what liberty this poor little chorister has lost, 

 and that a space a few inches square should enclose one 

 whose liberty knew no bounds, makes me sad. Poor 

 little chorister, though your melody seems a joyful one, 

 yet my heart feels sorry for thee, and I would infinitely 

 like to see thee restored to all the freedom of thy aerial 

 celsitude. 



