FROM SPRING TO FALL. 



Once, and once only, I accidentally touched with 

 the toe of my boot a lark's nest, in crossing a 

 grass-field. The young ones were nearly ready 

 to fly ; out they turned like so many sentries, and 

 challenged me. Those who may have had a similar 

 experience will know all about that challenge note, 

 for it does not mean fear or defiance. No other 

 young birds that I have seen ever stand on their 

 legs so high, or with such confidence, as these 

 larks do. 



Considering that they are field - songsters, they 

 suffer little from their natural enemies in the nesting 

 season. It is one of the mysteries of nature, this 

 protective power that is accorded to all youngsters, 

 furred and feathered ones included. No matter 

 where the place chosen may be, — and the closer to 

 man and his surroundings the better — so very' close 

 is it at times that from that very fact their presence 

 is never even suspected,— they rear their young in 

 peace. Cattle pass to and fro, biting a bit here and 

 a bit there, but never in the course of a lifelong ex- 

 perience have I ever known the tuft that hung over 

 and concealed the nest bitten off by grazing cattle, 

 or the nest trampled on by their hoofs. Others 



