Jennette Lee,
A Little Dunker
(1906)
“ Far across the level stretch a meadow-lark called low—like spring—and sweet. She lifted her head to listen. Then she followed the sound, the red cow going before her. She would never quite reach the lark, she knew, for always as she came he lifted wing, but she followed, trusting. She loved the high, sweet note coming across the grass; and when it sounded like this, an echo of spring in it, it floated to the clouds and rested there. All the songs of all the larks were there, and when the Dunker raised her face she heard them calling clear—on the south wind they came—calling "Ma-ree—Ma-ree!" ”
