12 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 
time. He has still another song, not put down in the 
books, which it has occasionally been my good fortune 
to hear, a dainty little warble, clear and liquid as a rip- 
pling brook. 
Of the migratory birds proper, the shore larks 
(Otocoris alpestris) are probably the first ones here from 
the south. In moderate winters one may see them in 
the city suburbs or outlying fields in February. They 
often bring out the first brood in the latter part of 
March, or early in April. Last year near the park 
homestead a nest was found with four eggs, which were 
hatched the first week in April. I have seen the young 
birds running about as nimble as little partridges sev- 
eral seasons as early as this. The late snows often cover 
the bird while she is sitting on the nest, and it is a mys- 
tery how she keeps herself and eggs from freezing. 
These larks are so silent and retiring in manner that 
their presence is less likely to be observed than that of 
some of the later comers. In habit they are real 
ground birds, but, unlike most such, they walk or run, 
but do not hop. When closely pressed they take wing, 
uttering a soft “cheep,” rise rapidly to some height, 
and then suddenly drop down again near the place of 
starting. They seldom alight on a tree or green bush, 
but often perch on a rail or fence-stake by the roadside, 
where, if undisturbed, they will sit silent for a long time. 
While on the wing they often indulge in a low, 
monotonous warble, but their real song, which is 
sprightly and musical, is generally given from the 
ground, or from a perch on a stone in the open field. 
