SYLVAN SECRETS. 



MIND, MEMOKY AND MIGRATION OF 

 BIRDS. 



Without preliminary negotiations, or spe- 

 cial preparations of any kind, I took posses- 

 sion of an old building which once had been a 

 "gin-house." Now bear in mind that I do 

 not mean gin-mill when I write gin-house^ 

 for the words are far from synonymous. My 

 new abode was picturesquely dilapidated and 

 stood in the midst of a dense growth of young 

 pine trees. From a window I had a view, 

 through a rift in the foliage, of a small blue 

 lake and a wide stretch of green, rush-cov- 

 ered marsh. An ancient peach and pear 

 orchard was close at hand, the venerable old 

 neglected trees standing knee-deep in a mass 

 of scrubby scions. 



This gin-house, instead Of having once been 

 a place where intoxicating drinks were con- 

 cocted and sold, was simply the wreck of an 

 old plantation cotton-ginning establishment; 

 indeed here was an abandoned and over- 

 grown estate which formerly had been the 

 pride of a Southern planter of great wealth 

 and social and political power. The stately 

 mansion had disappeared, saving the frag- 

 ments and ruins of some stuccoed brick col- 

 umns and the amorphous heaps of rubbish 

 suggestive of chimneys and foundation pil- 

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