II
In a day or two the farmer and his son came again to the field.
“Where are your friends?” said the farmer.
“This wheat is ripe. It must be cut.”
But the farmer’s friends did not come to help him.
At last the farmer said to his son,
“This wheat must be cut.
In the morning I will cut it myself.
You may help me, my son.”
“Oh, Mother!” said the little ones,
“Must we fly away to-day?”
“Yes,” said the mother lark.
“It is time for us to fly away.
In the morning the wheat will be cut.”