motes of tbe 



waiting until this whim of mine might have fair 

 play, for when the sun rose well above the hill and 

 flooded with cheering but not fiery light the river, 

 the hill-slopes, and the mountains far beyond, 

 then the birds welcomed the glorious autumn 

 morning in no uncertain tones. Jays, woodpeck- 

 ers, king-fisher, heron, hawk, and crow. " What 

 a chorus ! " I hear shouted derisively. But, de- 

 luded summer-day mortals, there was that in the 

 united voices of these birds that alone could meet 

 the requirements the conditions demanded. It 

 was sound that excited the heart to stronger beat- 

 ing ; sound that thrilled us ; that raised us above 

 the level of low-lying clods ; that transported us 

 to the mountain's top; even lifted us above the 

 clouds and made us one with nature in her exalted 

 mood. Mere sound, if you will, but with well- 

 nigh every merit music can claim ; and, happily, 

 sound that comes back at call, so that for a brief 

 space, even in the stuffy town, we may live over 

 again life's choicest moments. 



The thrush and summer's dream-life are closely 

 linked ; the scream of the falcon and an autumn 

 sunrise are the battle-cry and banner of more ac- 

 tive days. Melody and meditation these fit well 

 with summer-tide and restful night, and, as such, 

 count for much ; but the daybreak, with its defiant 

 shout and irrepressible energy, it is well for 

 the world they count for more. 



We naturally associate the owls with night, and 

 18 



