CHAPTER II 



THE SYCAMORE "KEY" 



It is an afternoon in early autumn, and now and 

 again the wind is inclined to be decidedly boister- 

 ous, occasionally almost bringing me and my cycle 

 to a standstill. As I am in no particular hurry, 

 and therefore not disposed to contest the point 

 with the wind, I have pulled up on a hill-top, and 

 resting the cycle against the fence, I suddenly dis- 

 cover that my late antagonist has changed its role 

 into that of entertainer. 



It so happens that I have stopped against a 

 large sycamore tree, and on the side of the hill 

 there is a deep railway cutting, which the tree 

 overlooks. Now, a sudden and extra powerful 

 gust of wind has just bent the boughs of the tree 

 and revealed its foHage in quite different hues by 

 overturning the numerous leaves, and exhibiting 

 more or less of their under sides ; indeed, so strong 

 was that gust that several of the leaves have been 

 altogether disconnected and carried fluttering away 

 into the cutting below. 



Besides these leaves, what is apparently a 

 small host of bewildered insects has also been 

 dislodged by this fitful gust. But then I observe 

 that the erratic movements of these apparent 

 insects are almost immediately converted into a 

 c 17 



