AS THE YEAR PASSES 199 



evergreen relatives in the south. Branches stand out 

 in more distinct outline as leaves are cast aside. The 

 Silver Birches are almost disrobed, and their clear, 

 graceful outlines lend distinction to the changing 

 landscape. Cedars, Spruces, and Hemlocks in their 

 perenm'al green become conspicuous in the fading and 

 disappearing foliage. Dense banks and masses of 

 verdure that blended with the surrounding woods 

 in the fullness of summer now stand out distinctly 

 among the half-denuded branches, and their shelter 

 invites the loitering feathered visitors on their 

 southern migration. 



The Bluebird is making a passing visit, and his 

 voice has assumed the conversational tones of 

 autumn. It is so different from his familiar call in 

 spring, but seems to suit the passing mood and 

 season. A sad year is recalled when the Bluebirds 

 mysteriously disappeared. Their friends missed 

 them from the orchards, gardens, and shade trees, 

 where they had long been so familiar. Nothing had 

 occurred to account for their strange absence. Spring 

 did not seem like spring at all when not heralded by 

 the Bluebird's cheering note, and the swelling buds 

 and opening leaves seemed to lack the element of life 

 familiarly supplied by his bright colours and happy 

 energy. There was no news of a disaster to the flock 

 during its wide winter migration, but the Bluebird's 

 friends (and every bird has its friends) were filled 



