LARKS IN WINTER 109 



appearance of doing so. They look and move like 

 little quails, crowd not, but keep together in a 

 scattered togetherness, and fly, all together, over the 

 hard earth, often seeming to be on the point of 

 alighting, but changing their minds and going on, 

 so that no man " no, nor woman either" can 

 say whether, or when, they will settle. Creeping 

 thus for, however fast they go, they seem to creep 

 over the brown fields in winter, the very shape of 

 these little birds seems different to what one has 

 known it. They look flatter, less elongated ; their 

 body is like a small globe, flattened at the poles, 

 and the short little tail projects from it, clearly and 

 sharply. A staid tail it is in winter. I have never 

 seen it either wagged or flirted ; for between the 

 wagging and flirting of a bird's tail, there is, as 

 Chaucer says about two quite different things, " a 

 long and large difference." Much charm in these 

 little birdies, even when winter reigns and 



" Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind." 



Occasionally one hears, from amongst them, a little, 

 short, musical, piping, note musical, but 



"Oh tamquam mutatus ab illo." 



By February, however, larks are soaring and sing- 

 ing, though, at this time, they do not mount very 

 high. The song, too, is not fully developed, and is, 

 often, no more than a pleasant, musical twittering, 

 especially when two or more chase one another 

 through the air. It is curious how often just three 

 birds together do this, a thing I have many times 



