Mr. Cheney says, like the partridge, 

 the Meadow Lark has favorite places of 

 resort, where he stands and sings or keeps 

 silent as the mood takes him. ''Probably 

 our largest singing bird, his voice is 

 neither loud nor deep, some of the tones 

 being rather sharp and weak. He lacks 

 the vocal powers of the robin and of the 

 oriole, a bird of not more than half its 

 size ; still his music is very charming. 



"The Meadow Lark's song is essential- 

 ly tender and plaintive. In the dewy 

 morning and toward evening he will 

 stand a long time upon a stump or large 

 rock or rock-heap, singing at intervals 

 little snatches of melody; occasionally, 

 like the oriole and the kingfisher, giving 

 his low, rapid chattering monotones. It 

 is a favorite pastime with him to repeat 

 four tones many times in succession, with 

 rests intervening, sometimes adding to 

 them another strain; and these frag- 

 mentary strains, when connected, form an 

 original and interesting song. 



"Now and then there is an exquisite, 

 subtle tremor in the notes of this singer, 

 no more to be described than the odor of 

 a rose. It somewhat resembles that in 

 the tones of the Wilson thrush as he 

 trembles along down to the close of his 

 quivering, silvery song." 



Mr. Chapman describes the song as a 

 high, musical whistle, "clear as the note 

 of a fife, sweet as the tone of a flute," 

 which William Hamilton Gibson calls 

 that "occasional, piercing shaft of song 

 which seems to cleave the air straight 

 from the hill-side meadow beyond — 'I 

 see ; I see you/ " "Who needs," he says, 

 "to prowl among the fence-rails to dis- 

 cover that black crescent and tapering 

 bill of the Meadow Lark, the young 

 sportsman's tempting target and the 

 playful 'cache, cache' of the little French 

 folk of our Acadian country?" 



"There is no such element as the 

 rhythmic beat in any bird song that I 

 have heard," Mr. Maurice Thompson 

 says. "Modulation and fine shades of 

 'color,' as the musical critic has it, to- 

 gether with melodious phrasing, take the 

 place of rhythm. The Meadow Lark in 

 its mellow fluting comes very near to 

 the measure of two rhythmic beats." Mr. 

 Thompson thinks that "the chief differ- 

 ence between the highest order of bird- 



music and the lowest order of man-music 

 is expressed by the word rhythm. The 

 sole opportunity of marking off into 

 "feet" the measure of a bird's rhapsodies 

 was vouchsafed to a brother of Edith M. 

 Patch, the experience being related by 

 her in Popular Science News, as follows : 

 "One very cool morning in early summer, 

 my brother, who leaves home about half 

 past five, noticed one of the many little 

 Meadow Larks which perch on the top- 

 most tip of a tree or post and pour out 

 their gracious matins. As it was a frosty 

 morning, the breath of the bird congealed 

 as it left its throat, and lay against the air 

 in wavy little puffs, the visible notes of 

 the warbler's harmony." 



Mrs. Wright says they sing from 

 March until July, and then again after 

 moulting, though at this season they 

 never equal their spring song, and she 

 has heard a few notes in January, when 

 they were lingering about the stubble- 

 fields. "It is not a lark at all," she says. 

 "It has suberb plumage, and its song, 

 though consisting of but a few syllables, 

 is sweet and thrilling. Almost before a 

 tinge of green has come upon the mead- 

 ows, these birds are searching for worms 

 and larvae, which form a large part of 

 their diet, and it is at this time that they 

 show their yellow breasts with the strik- 

 ing black crescent, to the best advantage. 

 Above they are much variegated, with 

 the general color brown. Crown with 

 brown and black streaks, black line be- 

 hind the eye, tail black with white outer 

 quills, wings edged with yellow; under 

 parts yellow, black crescent on throat. 

 While they are feeding they constantly 

 give their calling song, varying the into- 

 nation and accent in a way which is very 

 expressive — 'Spring o' the year, Spring 

 o' the year !' It has a breezy sound, as 

 fresh and wild as if the winds were blow- 

 ing through a flute." 



Hence it is evident that the poet meant, 

 if he did not mention, the Meadow Lark, 

 when he announced as the result of his 

 pastoral investigations : 



Not an inch of his body is free from delight. 

 Can he keep himself still if he would? Oh, 



not he! 

 The music stirs in him like wind through a 



tree. 



Juliette A. Owen. 



1'6 



