194 THE PASSING OF THE BIRDS. 



They steal away, give little warning, 

 Choose their own time ; 



Say not good-night, but in May's brighter clime 

 Bid us good-morning. 



Their departure bereaves us, but, all in 

 all, it must be accounted a blessing. Like 

 the falling of the leaves, it touches the heart 

 with a pleasing sadness, a sadness more 

 delicious, if one is born to enjoy it, than all 

 the merry-making of springtime. And even 

 for the most unsentimental of naturalists 

 the autumnal season has many a delightful 

 hour. The year is almost done ; but for the 

 moment the whole feathered world is in mo- 

 tion, and the shortest walk may show him 

 the choicest of rarities. Thanks to the pass- 

 ing of the birds, his local studies are an end- 

 less pursuit. "It is now more than forty 

 years that I have paid some attention to the 

 ornithology of this district, without being 

 able to exhaust the subject," says Gilbert 

 White; "new occurrences still arise as long 

 as any inquiries are kept alive." A happy 

 man is the bird-lover; always another spe- 

 cies to look for, another mystery to solve. 

 His expectations may never be realized ; but 

 no matter ; it is the hope, not its fulfillment, 



