Up from the pale green corn that is yet but a few inches high rises a little brown bird, mounting till he has attained to the elevation of the adjacent oak.

Then, beginning his song, he extends his wings, lifts his tail, and gradually descends slanting forward--slowly, like a parachute--sing, sing, singing all the while till the little legs, that can be seen against the sky somewhat depending, touch the earth and the wheat hides him.

Still from the clod comes the finishing bar of his music.
In a short time up he rises again, and this time from the summit of his flight sinks in a similar manner singing to a branch of the oak.

There he sings again; and, again rising, comes back almost to the same bough singing as he descends.

But he is not alone: from an elm hard by come the same notes, and from yet another tree they are also repeated.