Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 June 1901 — TEACHING A YOUNG LARK. [ARTICLE]

TEACHING A YOUNG LARK.

How It* Mother Coaches It to Hop About and Fly. J. M. Barrie, the noted Scottish story writer, in Scribner’s Magazine told how a young lark got its first lesson. A baby lark had got out of Its nest sideways, a fall of a foot only, but a dreadful drop for a baby. “You can get back this way,” its mother said, and showed it the way. But when the baby tried to leap it fell on its back. Then the mother marked out lines on the ground on which it was to practice hopping, and it got along beautifully so long as the mother was there every moment to say, “How wonderfully you hop!” “Now teach me to hop up,” said the little lark, meaning that it wanted to fly, and the mother tried to do It in vain. She could soar up, up, very bravely, but she could not explain how she did it. “Wait till the sun comes out after the rain,” she said, half remembering. “What is sun? What Is rain?” the little bird asked. “If you cannot teach me to fly, teach me to sing.” . “When the sun comes out after rain,” the mother replied, “then you will know how to sing.” The rain came and glued the little bird’s wings together. “I shall never be able to fly or sing,” it wailed. Then of a sudden It began to blink its eyes, for a glorious light had spread over the world, catching every, leaf and twig and blade of grass in tears and putting a smile In every tear. The baby bird’s breast swelled, It did not know why; it fluttered from the ground, it did not know why. “The sun has come out after the rain!” it trilled. “Thank you, sun! Thank you! Thank you! Oh, mother, did you hear me? I can sing.” Then it floated up, up, calling, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” to the sun. “Oh, mother, do you see me? I am flying!”