a few times, when he perhaps sees a man going across a field as I in search of something, he sings out, before go, 'I'll fetch him,' and the rest follow in turn. But some go. He then thinks of himself, 'I say, see the pretty bird! See the pretty bird, the fars in a low meadow. The others clear high notes.' Thus he goes; 'quit, don't you wish at me,' with an accent of wish. If any of his followers set up for themselves, and anticipate him, he is apt to get chused into a ledge; but as a rule they are a familiar loving, law abiding, peaceful race. Their vocal powers are in marked contrast with those of our larks, which are so much like in appearance that none but an expert can distinguish. Our larks arrived 5 days ago; but I time seen none as yet.