om the grass leaves.

"Did you notice the little lane down which I returned to my tiny home?"

"No," said Phyllis, "I thought you just came through the grasses by the
easiest way."

"If you will look closely," said the meadow lark, pecking away at her
own brown feathers, "if you look very, very closely, you will see the
tiny path which leads directly to my door."

Phyllis leaned down and peered very curiously among the grass stems.
Sure enough, there was a tiny winding path, almost hidden from sight.
It led directly to the meadow lark's nest.

"You are a very wonderful little bird," she cried.

"I shall have some very wonderful babies one of these fine days," said
the meadow lark, proudly.

"How safely they will be hidden from danger," said Phyllis.

"Well," said the mother bird, shaking her head, sadly, "I am very sure
that I build in a safer manner than my cousins. But, alas, even meadow
larks are not free from danger."

"I might have stepped on your nest?" said Phyllis.

"Yes," said the bird, "but what makes me fear most are the field-mice
and the snakes. They make great havoc in our nests when they discover
them. Many a tiny fledgling has been swallowed by a great creeping,
crawling snake. Many a beautiful egg has been eaten by the hungry
little field-mice."

"I hope no harm will come to your little home," said Phyllis. "I
notice one thing which you have for a protection from harm."

"What is that?" asked the meadow lark.

"It is your colour."

The meadow lark raised her head in gentle surprise.

"And what has my colour to do with my danger?" she asked.

"Why," said the little girl, feeling wondrous wise, "do you not see
that the browns of your feathery dress are the same colours as the
grass stems and the stubble amid which you brood and feed?"

"Why, so it is," said the meadow lark. "My back is brown, edged with
brownish white. That is like the grass stems. I am streaked with
black and brown and cream colours. That is like the blades of grass.

"My throat and breast are yellow like the stubble amid which I feed.
You are wonderfully wise, Miss Phyllis."

"What a beautiful black crescent you have upon your breast," said
Phyllis. "It was almost the first thing I noticed when I met you."

"Did you observe the dark brown lines on my head? They seem to cross
my eyes."

"I think you are quite beautiful," said Phyllis.

"Ah, but you should see my mate," said the meadow lark. "He is m