A B'IRDLOVER'S YEAR 



one may entertain most of the avine country- 

 side, and so become initiated into much of 

 their private life. 



As summer is the time of blossoms, so 

 autumn is the time of berries, and Nature 

 then provides her feathered children with 

 a rich repast. Autumn, however, lasts but 

 a short span, and then comes the rigour 

 of winter, with all its attendant hardships, 

 when one cannot help longing for the day 

 when one may be able to echo the words of 

 the sage : " Lo, the winter is past, the rain 

 is over and gone ; the flowers appear on 

 the earth ; the time of the singing of birds 

 is come. . . . Arise, my love, my fair one, 

 and come away." 



