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Updated: June 2, 2025
The beech-woods in the distance seemed to swell and grow thicker with every second. The skies were high and a clear blue. The cottage door stood ajar, and the lark's trill could be heard in the room. The hens and geese pattered about in the yard, and the cows, who felt the spring air away in their stalls, lowed their approval every now and then.
Very good they were, Gulliver thought, but very small, no bigger than a lark's wing; and the loaves of bread were about the size of bullets, so that he could take several at a mouthful. The people wondered greatly at the amount that he ate.
'Now, said Cherry, 'you will all know bell-heather, the grasshopper, the lark, and the squirrel. 'Is this the lark's crest, or the squirrel's tail! said Felix, giving an elder brother's pull to the boy's highest wave of hair.
The lights and shadows chased her in and out among the willows and fleecy cottonwoods and tall swamp-grasses; but Travis rode in the glare, on the high ditch-bank, and, although they passed each other daily, he had never had a good look at the "pretty girl at Lark's."
Valley and plain, mountain and fruitful field; the lark's song and the speedwell in the grass; surely a man need not sigh for greater loveliness until he has read something more of this living letter, and knelt before that earth of which he is the only confusion.
The city walls above us wave with snapdragons and iris among fig-trees sprouting from the riven stones. There are terraces over-rioted with pergolas of vine, and houses shooting forward into balconies and balustrades, from which a Romeo might launch himself at daybreak, warned by the lark's song.
And she was heartsome as the lark's song up the blue lift, and of late was never to be found in those two hours when my mother kept her room at mid-day, and was over-fond of long afternoon strolls down the river-bank or away in the woods by herself.
But poor Miss Fraley looked at her young friend as a caged bird at a window might watch a lark's flight, and was strangely glad whenever there was a chance to spend an hour in Nan's company. The first evening at Mrs. Fraley's had been a great success, and Miss Prince had been vastly pleased because both the hostess and the guest had received each other's commendation. Mrs.
She so loved that make-believe Moira, moving forward toward glowing things, that she cried aloud: "That's me! Me!" And of course her voice broke the spell the dream vanished; there was nothing left but the fleecy cloud, the meadow lark's song, close by. There was just time enough before her grandmother needed her, to run down to Father Murphy's.
You described everything, from Cold Spring Coulee to the house you built, and the spring under the rock wall, and even the meadow lark's nest you found in the weeds. Of course I know." "It's going to seem pretty rough, at first," he observed rather apologetically. "Yes but I shall not mind that. I want it to be rough. I'm tired to death of the smug smoothness of my life so far.
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