was its own special way of
pointing upwards). "I have said my
_Palace_--I should rather perhaps say,
my _Home_. We may meet," it added,
"pretty soaring warbler, on the way to
it. But please leave me now."

What I have said of the Thrush was
true also of the Lark. He was a
peculiarly biddable and discreet bird,
and when he got a hint he always took
it. Moreover, the Dewdrop had spoken
so courteously (he thought condescendingly)
to him, he would not for the
world intrude his company longer than
desired. The other evidently wished
to be all alone, to pack up and prepare
for this great and distant journey.

So the Lark plunged down to the
stream among the alders to bathe his
wings and refresh himself. After the
lustrations were duly completed, up
again he rose like an arrow into the
bright, blue sky. Says he to himself,
"I shall certainly be on the sharp out-look
for that ascent of the Dewdrop.
I can at all events be a silent spectator,
if my services cannot otherwise be of
use." And, to be sure, he did not
require to watch long; for, with that
keenness of perception that belonged
to all his ancestors, he found that he
had soared right into the very midst of
a golden mist. Some people say and
believe (though I am not wise enough
in bird-lore to know the truth of it),
that the lark family have eyes almost
like a microscope; things invisible to
us are said to be quite visible, and
indeed conspicuous, to them. At all
events, this was true in the case of the
present representative of that discriminating
race. So that what, if we had
been there, would only have seemed an
aggregation of glistening atoms, were
to him nothing less than a vast army in
visible shape--chariots and charioteers,
knights mounted on steeds with white
trappings and gold and silver bridles;
other horsemen carrying glittering
spears, polished shields, and flashing
swords; others bearing standards of
cloth of gold. I am only telling you
what the Lark saw, or thought he saw;
and a most wonderful army on march
you can very well believe it was.

[Illustration]

Oh, just see how he twitters and
carols, as I have more than once
pictured, and cannot do so too often--shaking
first his little wings, and then
his little throat; the old zigzagging
to and fro--here, there, everywhere--whisking
in this direction, and bouncing
in that direction, restless gymnastic
that he is, in a very whirl and vortex
of excitement!

"You told me, a lit