CHAPTER \1II. 



LARKS — PiriTS — BUNTINGS SPARROWS. 



As we may sec in the flowers and trees witli 

 which our green earth is adorned, tliat woodland, 

 rock, and river have plants of their own, so, too, all 

 the varied spots of our landscape have birds which 

 haunt them especially. The streamlet runs along 

 the grass, and the wagtails and the dipper are 

 there to sing to its tune. The marsh is lonely, 

 but it has its flowers and its birds too; and the 

 chorus sung among the stiff sedges, or tlie bowing 

 reeds, is so sweet that we gladly seek some little 

 mound of gi*ass on which we may sit and listen. 

 On the stone or fm*ze-clad heath, a full flow of 

 song salutes the morning sunshine ; and a loud 

 hymn of thanksgiving is heard, by day or night, 

 among the woodlands, which should awaken our 

 souls to praise. The white clifl", which fringes 

 our shore, echoes not alone to the sound of winds 

 and waves, and screaming seagulls, but gives back 

 the singing of the shore lark, which makes its 



