THE SKYLA11K. 
233 
tion of my friend Wm. Sinclaire, Esq., contained one of a black 
colour, which was shot in a wild state among a flock, as was a 
pure white one — a true albino, with red eyes — which is in 
the collection of J. V. Stewart, Esq. One, with primaries, secon- 
daries and tail, snowy white, and, like the others, shot in a wild 
state, has come under my notice. Birds are of course more subject 
to melanism when caged, than in a state of nature. A young male 
skylark of 1843, kept by Mr. Darragh, curator of the Belfast 
Museum, changed at the autumnal moult of 1845 to black, which 
colour was assumed by its entire plumage excepting on the upper 
portion of the neck, where on close examination, a little very dark- 
brown might be observed. This bird was fed on bread, potatoes, 
groats, and hemp-seed. Death ensued soon after the black plumage 
was exhibited. It panted much, as if for want of breath, and on 
dissection after death, a fleshy tubercle was found outside the lower 
portion of the windpipe. In Dec., 1846, Mr. Darragh received 
a black lark to preserve, which had been three years in the pos- 
session of the person with whom it died, during the one half of which 
period the plumage had Been black . A considerable portion of its 
food during the whole time was hemp-seed. Its skull was re- 
marked to be extremely thin, so much so, as to be compared to 
silk-paper. This was likewise the case in another black lark, 
which he set up. Both birds were males and excellent singers. 
The claws of caged larks kept by him have grown to the length 
of two inches. A lark which had its liberty within the green- 
house of a relative, lived eight years there, and was eventually 
lost by effecting its escape. 
Nowhere perhaps is the skylark more sought for as a caged-bird 
than in Ireland, and the song given forth “right merrilie” from 
the little patch of green-sward within its prison, seems to imply 
that the bird bears confinement well. But it is always with re- 
gret that we see the lark, whose nature is to pierce the clouds 
when singing, so circumscribed, and we cannot but wish for its 
own sake that it had the freedom of “ fresh fields and pastures 
new;" yet we do not, like a class of persons in the world, think 
only of the skylark . To the poor artisan in the town, this bird is 
