Young birds resemble the parents, except that in colour they are a mottled gray. Food is largely fruit--green corn, nuts, and larval insects procured from tree-trunks.--Sometimes stores away nuts, etc. Place chosen for nest is usually a rotting tree, which is easier to bore.--Hollow from fifteen to eighteen inches deep.--Eggs pure white, generally six in number. THE LARK [Illustration: Larks] IN THE MEADOW If Jack's big black dog, Nero, had not chanced to snatch Phyllis's rag doll by the head and run away with it this story would have never been written. You see, Nero bounded straight across the meadow and Phyllis, fearing that she would lose the doll, ran shrieking after him. Nero was only playing, and soon dropped the doll and ran off. Phyllis regained her property and started to return, when a bird rose from the grass at her feet with a queer whirring sound. Phyllis looked up at the bird and then down to the spot from which it had flown. In another moment she would have stepped in the nest. This meadow lark's nest was unlike any other Phyllis had found. Indeed, it could scarcely be called a nest at all. But when she looked at it Phyllis thought what a wise little bird the meadow lark must be to choose such a place for the nest. Had Phyllis not chanced upon it in just the way she did she might have looked all day long and not discovered it. The nest was flat upon the ground. Around it and over it arched the tall meadow grasses. The nest itself was made of grass--it seemed to Phyllis that it was made in a somewhat careless manner, and that the eggs might easily roll out upon the ground. There were four beautiful oval eggs in the nest--the largest birds' eggs Phyllis had as yet discovered. They were over an inch long, and were of a beautiful rosy white colour, speckled closely with reddish brown spots. As Phyllis sat very still, the mother bird crept softly back to her home. She carefully settled herself on the grassy nest and with her bill tenderly tucked the eggs under her soft feathers. "How careful you are!" exclaimed Phyllis. "No fear of your breaking the eggs." The brown bird rose up quickly in fright and looked uncertainly toward the fence. Phyllis thought to see her whirr off again. "Oh, don't go," she cried. "I will not harm you! Truly I will not disturb you!" The meadow lark looked again toward the fence, and then settled herself once more over her precious eggs. "Why do you look toward the fence so often?" asked Phyllis. "Do you not see that bird perched upon the fence?" asked the meadow lark. "Yes," Phyllis answered, "what is he doing there?" "He is our sentinel," said the meadow lark. "He is on the lookout for danger. When he gives the alarm, the rest of the flock know there is danger near. "When we hear the sentinel's alarm we are off in an instant. We fly high into the air. Did you not notice how I hovered near the grass-tops for a moment and then rose high into the air?"