MEADOW LARK. 217 



mind. The male is still on the Aving ; his notes sound loud and clear as 

 he impatiently surveys the grassy plain beneath him. His beloved is not 

 there. His heart almost fails him, and, disappointed, he rises towards 

 the black walnut-tree, under which, during many a summer's heat, the 

 mowers have enjoyed both their repast and their mid-day rest. I now 

 see him, not desponding as you might suppose, but vexed and irritated. 

 See how he spreads his tail, how often he raises his body, how he ejacu- 

 lates his surprise, and loudly calls for her whom of all things he best 

 loves. — Ah ! — there comes the dear creature ; her timorous, tender notes 

 announce her arrival. Her mate, her beloved, has felt the charm of her 

 voice. His wings are spread, and buoyant with gladness, he flies to meet, 

 to welcome her, anticipating all the bliss prepared for him. Would 

 that I could interpret to you, reader, as I feel them, the many assurances 

 of friendship, fidelity and love that at this precious moment pass from the 

 one to the other, as they place their bills together and chatter their mu- 

 tual loves ! — the gentle chidings of the male for the sorrow her delay has 

 caused him, and the sweet words she uses to calm his ardour. Alas ! it 

 were vain to attempt it. I have listened to the talk, it is true ; I have 

 witnessed all their happiness ; but I cannot describe it to you. You 

 reader, must watch them, as I have done, if you wish to understand their 

 language. If not, I must try to give you a taste of what I would will- 

 ingly impart, were I competent to the task, and proceed to relate what I 

 have observed of their habits. 



When the Meadow Lark first rises from the ground, which it does 

 with a smart spring, it flutters like a young bird, then proceeds checking 

 its speed and resuming it in a desultory and uncertain manner, flyino- in 

 general straight forward, and glancing behind as if to ascertain the amount 

 of its danger, but yet affording an easy aim to the most inexperienced 

 marksman. When pursued for a while, it moves more swiftly, sailino- and 

 beating its wings alternately, until it gets out of reach. It will not stand 

 before the pointer longer than a moment, and that only when surprised 

 among rank weeds or grasses. During its migrations, which are usually 

 performed by day, it rises above the tallest forest trees, passing along in 

 loose bodies, and not vmfrequently in flocks of from fifty to a hundred in- 

 dividuals. At such times its motions are continued, and it merely sails at 

 intervals, to enable it to breathe and renew its exertions. Now and then, 

 one may be seen making directly towards another, chasing it downwards or 

 horizontally away from the group, uttering all the time a sharp querulous 



