OLD COLONY BERRY PASTURES 175 



my last bird upwards of twenty years ago), 

 it was more like a cedar grove, although by 

 searching for them one could still discover 

 a few stumps and ruins of what had once 

 been apple trees. "Perish your civiliza- 

 tion ! " Mother Nature seemed to be say- 

 ing. " Give me a few years, and I will 

 undo the whole of it." I was half glad to 

 hear her. The planter of the orchard was 

 dead long ago, and his work had followed 

 him. 



But the holly trees ! They are Nature's 

 own children. I would have a look at 

 them, remembering perfectly, I thought, 

 the exact spot where a pretty bunch used to 

 grow. And I found them, after a protracted 

 search but no longer a pretty clump. 

 One tree was perhaps fifteen feet high a 

 beanpole, which still put forth at the very 

 top a few branchlets, one or two feet in 

 length, just to prove itself alive. The rest 

 of the bunch had been cut down to the 

 ground. All that remained was a few 

 suckers, each with a spray of green leaves. 

 The sight was pitiful. Poor trees ! They 

 were surrounded by a dense wood, instead 



