Long wreaths of the daisies, and chains, they had made; In the baby's lap these wreaths they had laid, The children were drawing, with caution and care, Their sweet baby-sister, to give her the air, In a dainty straw wagon with wheels of bright red, And a top of white muslin which shaded her head. She was only one year and a few months old; Her eyes were bright blue and her hair was like gold; She laughed all the time from morning till night, Till Eddie and Jane were quite wild with delight . And were laughing to watch her fat little hands Untwisting and twisting the stems and the strands. Just then, of a sudden, a lark flew by And sang at the top of his voice in the sky; "Ho! ho! Mr. Lark," shouted Jane,"come down here! We're not cruel children. You may come without fear. We've something to show you. In all your life maybe You'll never see anything sweet as our baby!" 'Twas an odd thing, now, for a lark to do-- I hope you won't think my story's untrue-- But this is the thing that I saw and I heard: That lark flew right down, like a sociable bird, As soon as they called him, and perched on a tree, And winked with his eye at the children and me, And laughed out, as much as a bird ever can, As he cried, "Ha! ha! Little woman and man! "You'll be quite surprised and astonished, maybe, To hear that I do not think much of your baby. Why, out in the field here I've got in my nest, All cuddled up snug 'neath my wife's warm breast, Four little babies--two sisters, two brothers-- And all with bright eyes, as bright as their moth- er's; Your baby's at least ten times older than they, But they are all ready to fly to-day; "They'll take care of themselves in another week, Before your poor baby can walk or can speak. It has often surprised me to see what poor things All babies are that are born without wings; And but one at a time! Dear me, my wife Would be quite ashamed of so idle a life!" And the lark looked as scornful as a lark knows how, As he swung up and down on a slender bough. A cat had been eying him there for a while, And sprang at him now from top of a stile. But she missed her aim--he was quite too high; And oh, how he laughed as he soared in the sky! Then the cat scrambled up, disappointed and cross; She looked all about her, and felt at a loss What next she should do. So she took up the thread Of the lark's discourse, and ill-naturedly said: "Yes, indeed, little master and miss, I declare, It's enough to make any mother-cat stare To see what a time you do make, to be sure. Over one small creature, so helpless and poor