208 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



ing and waking. Nature is ripe, deadly 

 ripe, and Autumn pauses thrilled, 

 hardly daring to breathe lest the en- 

 chanted fabric should vanish, yet half 

 believing the robe is something more 

 than a bright phantom. Then there 

 comes a pantomime, a ballet interlude 

 before the last act. Beauty gathers, 

 the seasons seem topsy-turvy, the earth 

 is saturated with colour, and the gay 

 birds of summer in sober dominos, 

 silent as becomes their part, pervade 

 their former haunts. The brown water 

 holds argosies of leaf boats, and other 

 leaves, tricked out in flower colours, 

 dance on the grass, while katydids and 

 crickets twang their little banjos, and 

 the pines wave applause. What dainty 

 disguises the wood things wear ! The 

 medeola, with whorled, two-storied 

 stalk, is dressed in buff and pink, with 

 blue berries for a top knot, each stalk 



