New Walks in Old Ways 



lously, into real feathers. They say 

 that the processes of digestion and 

 assimilation progress in bird interiors 

 with astounding rapidity. I can vouch 

 for the truth of that statement. So 

 very rapid was the growth of the 

 youngsters we had saved from the 

 mower's passage that the second day 

 after the big storm they were gone. 

 I know they were neither drowned nor 

 blown away, because I saw them the 

 morning after looking fit and fat and 

 fairly feathered. I had hoped to see 

 the process of coaxing the larklets out 

 among the haycocks, but they were 

 too swift for me in their "get-away." 



Again the sun is shining. The hay is 

 dry and cured. The men are pitching 

 it by hand in the good old-fashioned 

 way; two forking it up onto the load, 

 growing more unwieldy every moment, 

 and two stowing it so that it will carry 

 safely to the barn. The horses, wait- 

 ing for the word to go, are happy, I 

 should say; for the work is light com- 



[48] 



