ALAUDA ARVENSIS, Linn. 
Sky-Lark. 
Alauda arvensis, Linn. Faun. Suec., p. 76. 
italica, Gmel. edit. Linn. Syst. Nat., tom. i. p. 793. 
mlgaris, Leach, Syst. Cat. of Indig. Mamm. and Birds in Coll. Brit. Mus., p. 21. 
ccelijpeta, Pall. Zoog. Rosso-Asiat., tom. i. p. 524. 
segetim, Brelim, Vdg. Deutschl., p. 318. 
montana, Brehm, Vog. Deutschl., p. 319, tab. 20. fig. 1. 
agrestis, Brehm, Vog. Deutschl., p. 320. 
It cannot be expected that anything I may attempt to say respecting the history of a bird so well known as 
the Sky-Lark will be imbued with novelty. From the days of Chaucer and Spenser nearly every poet of 
eminence has alluded to its charming song, and every writer, although unimbued w ith poetic feeling, has very 
correctly described its habits, disposition, and economy. Some authors have dwelt upon its value as a bird 
for the cage and the aviary, and its consequent importance as an article of commerce ; while others 
have dilated upon its qualities as a viand for the table, and displayed their talents in detailing how a 
dozen larks may be made into one of the most recherche of dishes. For me to rhapsodize on the 
aerial song and other pleasing traits of the Sky-Lark would be absurd, since poems and verses on this 
head are almost innumerable, many of them written with much feeling, and exquisite beauty of expression. 
“ The busy larke, messenger of daye, 
Salutetli, in her song, the mornine gay ; 
And fyry Phoebus ryseth up so bright, 
That all the orient laugheth of the light.” — Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale. 
“ Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time ! 
***»«■* 
The merry larke her matins sings aloft. 
The thrush replyes, the mavis descant playes.” — Spencer’s Egithalamion. 
“Lo ! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, 
Prom his moist cabinet mounts up on high. 
And watches the morning, from whose silver breast 
The sun ariseth in his majesty.” — Shakespeare. 
“ Now laverocks wake the merry morn. 
Aloft on dewy wing.” — B urns. 
The Sky-Lark is universally dispersed over the British Islands, hut is less numerous in the Western Isles, 
the Orcades, and the extreme north of Scotland, than elsew'here, especially during the months of winter. 
In autumn our climate, generally more humid and milder than that of the continent, attracts great 
numbers of Larks to our shores ; and hence enormous flocks may, at this period, be seen congregated 
together in many parts of the country, hut more especially in the central districts. Winter being over, 
these foreign Larks again cross the channel, and return to the summer home where they w^ere bred and 
reared ; while our stay-at-home birds take up their quarters in arable lands, wild heaths, and moorlands ; 
and, before the regular migrants have arrived, they have j)aired, and the exuberant song of the male 
is attuned in joyous strains, which daily increase in volubility until the female has commenced the task 
of incubation ; and then it is that the male, daily mounting higher and higher in the air, becomes lost 
in ecstasy, and during his ascents pours forth his song to the delight of his mate as well as of the 
lover of nature. After the female has performed her natural duty, no such solace is requisite ; for both 
parents are now happy in assiduously attending their young until they are able to live by themselves. 
If summer be not in its wane, a second nesting takes place, and a similar result follows. The male forsakes 
the ground, ascends again in the air, and cheers the female during her second brooding. 
“ When the weather is fine,” says the Rev. C. A. Johns, “ its song may he heard throughout the breadth 
of the land. Rising, as it were, by a sudden impulse from its nest or lowly retreat, the bird bursts forth, while 
yet but a few feet from the ground, into exuberant song, and wdth its head turned towards the breeze ; now 
ascending perpendicularly, and now veering to the right or left, but not describing circles, it pours forth an 
unbroken strain of melody until it has reached an elevation computed to be, at the most, about a thousand 
feet. To an observer on earth it has dwindled to the size of a mere speck, but, as far as my experience 
goes, it never rises so high as to defy the search of a keen eye. Having reached its highest elevation, its 
