human
My throat and breast are yellow like the stubble amid which I feed. You are wonderfully wise, Miss Phyllis.
gpt
What a beautiful black crescent you have upon your breast, said Phyllis.
human
It was almost the first thing I noticed when I met you.
gpt
Did you observe the dark brown lines on my head? They seem to cross my eyes.
human
I think you are quite beautiful,
gpt
Ah, but you should see my mate, said the meadow lark.
human
He is much more beautiful than I. My feathers seem pale and faded when I walk beside him. When fall comes, however, my own colours will brighten.
gpt
On what shall you feed your little ones?
human
My babies need never grow hungry, for the grass seeds are always falling. The beetles and worms and ants are always walking by. The moths and the butterflies are for ever laying their eggs in all sorts of convenient places. You remember how their eggs do not hatch out into butterflies and moths at once. They are just ugly little worms called grubs.
gpt
Yes, said Phyllis,
human
I remember.
gpt
I am glad, she said,
human
You are quite right, said Phyllis.
gpt
She herself told me so.
human
It has been some time since I have heard your clear, sweet whistle, said Phyllis.
gpt
I thought you must have left our meadow. You have a most beautiful voice.
human
Oh, no, we shall not soon leave your meadow, Phyllis. In the autumn we may join a party of larks and take our family to the marshes for awhile, but we shall return. Meadow larks do sometimes go south for the winter, but usually they live their lives in their home meadows.
gpt
Then you will sing for me again?
human
Oh, with pleasure,
gpt
You remember how we used to sing in the spring? Just now our thoughts are so taken up with our nesting that we have little time for song. But later, when the little ones are able to care for themselves, I shall gladly whistle to you once more.
human
I shall listen for you, said Phyllis.
gpt
Just now I must go, for I hear my mother's voice. Good-bye, meadow lark!
human
Where are you going, little lark?
gpt
I am going to the king to sing him a song this fine May morning.
human
Come here, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty ring round my neck.
gpt
No, no, gray pussy; no, no! You worried the little mouse, but you shall not worry me.
human
Where are you going, pretty lark?
gpt
I am going to the king, to sing him a song this fine May morning.
human
Come here, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty feather in my wing.
gpt
No, no, gray, greedy hawk, no, no! You pecked at the little linnet, but you shall not peck at me.
human
Where are you going, sweet lark?
gpt
I am going to the king, to sing him a song this fine May morning.
human
Come, little lark, and I'll let you see a pretty white spot on the tip of my tail.
gpt
No, no, sly fox; no, no! You worried the little lamb, but you shall not worry me.
human
What shall we do for this little lark who has sung so sweet a song to us?
gpt
I think we must have some May-day games for the little lark, and invite robin redbreast to sing with him.