A MASQUE OF THE 

 SEASONS 



IN sheer midsummer the little lake in the 

 woods where I used to fish is as vari- 

 able as the winds that sweep across it. 

 Walled in by the hills, it glooms or bright- 

 ens under sun or shade, and glasses the 

 floating clouds above it. Lying under the 

 apple-trees in July days there is no need of 

 books to while the hours away. The first 

 striking characteristic of the season is a feel- 

 ing of utter peace tranquillity in a large 

 sense of wide-vaulted blue skies, dark masses 

 of distant woods, and the furled, yet glow- 

 ing, banners of the sun. 



Almost all the color-plan is green. The 

 thick leaves of apple-trees, the fruit suspended 

 from the boughs, the timothy, the stretch of 

 waters below, the oaks at the foot of the hill, 

 the grasses at the marsh's rim, the field-flung 

 guidons of the corn, all are dressed in sum- 

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