e Thompson, Mrs.
Olive Thorne Miller, and Dr. C. C. Abbott abound in passages which are
excellent for recitation. It is surprising how familiar the best-known
novelists have been and are with birds. In appreciation of them they
are second only to the poets. Charles Reade's description of the
lark's song in the mines of Australia, in "Never Too Late to Mend," is
an inspiring recitation.

5. Short quotations from well known authors should be given, if
possible, by every pupil in the school. We give a few taken almost at
random:--

Away over the hayfield the lark floated in the blue, making
the air quiver with his singing; the robin, perched on a
fence, looked at us saucily and piped a few notes by way of
remark; the blackbird was heard, flute-throated, down in the
hollow recesses of the wood; and the thrush, in a holly tree
by the wayside, sang out his sweet, clear song that seemed
to rise in strength as the wind awoke a sudden rustling
through the long woods of birch and oak.--WILLIAM BLACK, in
_Adventures of a Phaeton_.

We seemed to hear all the sounds within a great compass--in
the hedges and in the roadside trees, far away in woods or
hidden up in the level grayness of the clouds: twi, twi,
trrrr-weet!--droom, droom, phloee!--tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck,
feer!--that was the silvery chorus from thousands of
throats. It seemed to us that all the fields and hedges had
but one voice, and that it was clear and sweet and
piercing.--WILLIAM BLACK, _Ibid._

Silvia could hear the twittering of the young starlings in
their nests as their parents went and came carrying food,
and the loud and joyful "tirr-a-wee, tirr-a-wee, prooit,
tweet!" of the thrushes, and the low currooing of the wood
pigeon, and the soft call of the cuckoo, that seemed to come
in whenever an interval of silence fitted. The swallows
dipped and flashed and circled over the bosom of the lake.
There were blackbirds eagerly but cautiously at work, with
their spasmodic trippings, on the lawn. A robin perched on
the iron railing eyed her curiously and seemed more disposed
to approach than to retreat.--WILLIAM BLACK, in _Green
Pastures and Piccadilly_.

A jay fled screaming through the wood, just one brief
glimpse of brilliant blue being visible.--WILLIAM BLACK,
_Ibid._

And as they came near to