THE STORY OF A GARDEN I5I 



Walk down with me to the seat 

 beside the honeysuckle trellis. On the 

 right is a wall of green, and under the 

 arched spruces goes the lane walk. 

 The lane is shady with a wood dim- 

 ness, and from it stray dogwood, red- 

 berried elder, white thorn, birch, 

 clethra, sumach, oak, and sassafras. 

 This is Thrush Lane; here the hermit 

 thrush comes in May, and in October 

 returns to feed on the wedge-shaped 

 magnolia berries. Here the brown 

 thrasher scratches and rustles daily and 

 the wood thrush stays to nest, while the 

 olive-backed and gray-cheeked thrushes 

 make semi-annual visits. The catbird 

 and the sociable robin find the lane 

 too dull except for noon siestas, but the 

 warblers love it for the shelter and the 

 food it yields them. 



Between the bushes, in little gaps, 

 the elm-leaved sfoldenrod, the silver 



