TIME AND CHANGE 



boys do the feat standing on a plank. I was tempted 

 to try this myself, but of course made a comical 

 failure. 



One of my pleasant surprises in Honolulu — one 

 that gave the touch of nature which made me feel 

 less a stranger there — was learning that the Euro- 

 pean sk^dark had been introduced and was thriving 

 on the grassy slopes back of the city. The mina, a 

 species of starling from India as large as our robin 

 and rather showily dressed, with a loud, strident 

 voice, I had seen and heard evervwhere both in 

 town and country, but he was a stranger and did 

 not appeal to me. But the thought of the skylark 

 brought Shelley and Wordsworth, and English 

 downs and meadows, near to me at once, and I was 

 eager to hear it. So early one morning we left the 

 Pleasanton, our tarry ing-place, and climbed the 

 long, pastoral slope above the city, where cattle and 

 horses were grazing, and listened for this minstrel 

 from the motherland. We had not long to wait. 

 Sure enough, not far from us there sprang from the 

 turf Shelley's bird, and went climbing his invisible 

 spiral toward the sky, pouring out those hurried, 

 ecstatic notes, just as I had heard him above the 

 South Downs of England. It was a moment of keen 

 delight to me. The bird soared and hovered, drift- 

 ing about, as it were, before the impetuous current 

 of his song, with all the joy and abandon with which 

 the poets have credited him. It was like a bit of 



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