n," said Buffy-Bob.

They stood at the edge of a last year's nest, and looked down with
delight into the round, mossy cave. Then they crept gently in, and,
lying down in each other's arms, found it so deep, and warm, and
comfortable, and soft, that they were soon fast asleep.

Now, close beside them, in a hollow, was another nest, in which lay a
lark and his wife; and the children were awakened, very early in the
morning, by a dispute between Mr. and Mrs. Lark.

"Let me up," said the lark.

"It is not time," said the lark's wife.

"It is," said the lark, rather rudely. "The darkness is quite thin. I
can almost see my own beak."

"Nonsense!" said the lark's wife. "You know you came home yesterday
morning quite worn out--you had to fly so very high before you saw him.
I am sure he would not mind if you took it a little easier. Do be quiet
and go to sleep again."

"That's not it at all," said the lark. "He doesn't want me. I want him.
Let me up, I say."

He began to sing; and Tricksey-Wee and Buffy-Bob, having now learned
the way, answered him:--

"I will sing a song.
I'm the Lark."
"Sing, sing, Throat-strong,
Little Kill-the-dark.
What will you sing about,
Now the night is out?"

"I can only call;
I can't think.
Let me up--that's all.
Let me drink!
Thirsting all the long night
For a drink of light."

By this time the lark was standing on the edge of his nest and looking
at the children.

"Poor little things! You can't fly," said the lark.

"No; but we can look up," said Tricksey.

"Ah, you don't know what it is to see the very first of the sun."

"But we know what it is to wait till he comes. He's no worse for your
seeing him first, is he?"

"Oh no, certainly not," answered the lark, with condescension, and
then, bursting into his _Jubilate_, he sprang aloft, clapping his wings
like a clock running down.

"Tell us where--" began Buffy-Bob.

But the lark was out of sight. His song was all that was left of him.
That was everywhere, and he was nowhere.

"Selfish bird!" said Buffy. "It's all very well for larks to go hunting
the sun, but they have no business to despise their neighbours, for all
that."

"Can I be of any use to you?" said a sweet bird-voice out of the nest.

This was the lark's wife, who stayed at home with the young larks while
her husband went to church.

"Oh! thank you. If you please," answered Tricksey-Wee.

And up popped a pretty b