Pratt: The Lark and her Young Ones.

A lark had made her nest in the wheat-field. All summer the little larks had been growing strong and large. All summer the wheat had been growing tall and ripe. Now the larks were nearly old enough to fly. Now the wheat was nearly ripe. One day the farmer came to look at his wheat. Said the farmer to his son, "The wheat is nearly ripe; go and ask our neighbors to help us harvest." "O dear!" peeped the little larks; "we must get ready to fly away." "There is no need to move yet," answered the mother. "But are you not frightened?" asked the baby larks. "Not as long as the farmer depends upon his neighbors," answered the lark with a wise smile. In a day or two the farmer came again to look at his wheat. Said the farmer to his son, "The wheat is nearly ripe; go and ask our uncles and our cousins to help us harvest." "O dear!" peeped the little larks; "we must get ready to fly away." "There is no need to move yet," answered the mother. "But are you not frightened? " asked the baby larks. "Not as long as the farmer depends upon his relatives," answered the lark with a wise smile. In a day or two the farmer came again to look at his wheat. Said the farmer to his son, "The wheat is nearly ripe; go and sharpen the scythes. To-morrow I will begin to harvest." "Now, children," said the mother lark; "it is time for us to fly."

Source: Mara Pratt's Aesop 22.

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