VII 



AUTUMN TIDES 



THE season is always a little behind the 

 sun in our climate, just as the tide is always 

 a little behind the moon. According to the 

 calendar, the summer ought to culminate 

 about the 2ist of June, but in reality it is 

 some weeks later; June is a maiden month 

 all through. It is not high noon in nature 

 till about the first or second week in July. 

 When the chestnut-tree blooms, the meri- 

 dian of the year is reached. By the first of 

 August it is fairly one o'clock. The lustre 

 of the season begins to dim, the foliage of 

 the trees and woods to tarnish, the plumage 

 of the birds to fade, and their songs to cease. 

 The hints of approaching fall are on every 

 hand. How suggestive this thistle-down, 

 for instance, which, as I sit by the open 

 window, comes in and brushes softly across 

 my hand ! The first snowflake tells of win- 

 ter not more plainly than this driving down 

 heralds the approach of fall. Come here, 

 my fairy, and tell me whence you come and 



