THE FIERY '' CRITTERS/' 85 



their rich autumn foliage, flourished beside it; 

 and a thousand and one exquisite, and to me 

 nameless, green things hung upon it, and leaned 

 against it, and nearly covered it up. And what a 

 garden of delight nestled in each protected cor- 

 ner of an old-fashioned zigzag fence! Yet all 

 these are under the ban — "shiftless." 



Thanks be to the gods who sowed this country 

 so full of stones and trees, that the army of 

 farmers who have worried the land have n't 

 succeeded in turning it into the abominatio*n of 

 desolation they admire ! 



And now, having relieved my mind, I '11 go 

 on with the blue jay hunt. 



The next morning it was, for a rarity, fine. 

 I started up the wood road ahead of my guide, 

 so that I might take my climb as easily as such 

 a thing can be taken. Passing through the 

 bare pasture, I entered the outlying clumps of 

 spruce which form the advance-guard of the for- 

 ests on Greylock, and here my leader overtook 

 me, urging his fiery steeds, with their empty 

 sled. Now horned beasts have had a certain 

 terror for me ever since an exciting experience 

 with them in my childhood. I stood respect- 

 fully on one side, prepared to fly should the 

 "critters" (local) show malicious intent. On 

 they came, looking at me sharply with wicked 

 eyes. I made ready for a rush, when, lo ! they 



