1 68 ROUND ABOUT CHICAGO 



tocratic pink deepened into the red of 'the buxom 

 phlox and milkweed, and as the autumn came, 

 the golden-rod brought its wealth to pay for the 

 season's beauty. 



Now, we took to the field again, scaring up 

 flocks of meadow-larks as we went. Their notes 

 came out clearer and sweeter now that the fall 

 was at hand, and their "Spring-o'-the-year" 

 ranked them with the prophets. 



Then the rabbits showed their cotton tails 

 oftener as we crossed our field, the leaves grew 

 russet and brown, and we went no more to South 

 Shore. 



At last, one winter's night the snow covered it 

 all, and for us, for alway; and only the sturdy 

 blue jay now keeps watch until until the hated 

 clubhouse opens in the spring ! 



