8o 



A DAY IN JUNE 



IT seems in all-including motherly kindness that 

 the trees are spreading their great, umbrageous leaves 

 over the hot, tired earth* The brooding shade is ever 

 cool and inviting* There is a soothing quietness in 

 it that lulls the most restless into placid waking 

 sleep and day dreams* The inspiriting panorama 

 of spring has passed* The transient feathered 

 visitors who lent the charm of melody to the joyful 

 season have departed for their northern homes* 

 The happy excitement of their visit is over, and they 

 have left the calmness of a pleasant memory and the 

 satisfying hope of renewals* Those who have come 

 to spend the summer have quietly settled down to the 

 serious affairs of life* Many do not sing as in the 

 earlier days* Their joy has not departed, but has 

 found new fields of expression. It is manifested in 

 the lively happiness of domestic life* There is a fuller 

 joy beaming in the bright eye of the Robin, hastening 

 with a battered worm to its importunate fledgling, 

 than in the sweetest melody that filled the early dusk 

 of even'ngs in spring. The feathered bipeds find a 

 joy in all the shifting scenes of life* A few continue 

 their song through the sultry season, and seem to 



