182 BOULDER REVEBIES. 



and, methinks, sparkle with delight that I deign 

 to notice them. Each has a hue, a fracture, a 

 form or a crystallization by which I recognize 

 its makeup and its name. Some of them are 

 close kin to, perhaps came from the very ledge 

 as did the boulders I love so well, which rest 

 on yonder sloping hillside. 



In the shrubs and the long grasses of the low- 

 land marshy spots along the stream, the "cease- 

 less trill" has begun and will continue until 

 October's chilling blasts end the life of the mu- 

 sicians. Cicada, tree cricket, ground cricket, 

 katydid, grasshopper, mole cricket, each adds its 

 mite to the maze of sound. Love or the desire to 

 love doth all pervade. The songtime of bird has 

 ended. It has resulted in a new generation of 

 nestlings, which has gone forth to make the 

 springtime music of another year. The song- 

 time of insect has but just begun. They sound 

 their cymbals, and if love be near it answers 

 with its presence. The music of the one to 

 whom love hath answered ceases and passion, 

 that force which plays the harp of love, doth 

 reign supreme. 



