92 ON FAIR CASCO BAY 



a cool north wind blew it away, it seemed to 

 take the whole tribe of warblers with it. No 

 more did the black-throat appear on the 

 spruce, gone were the bustling and scram- 

 bling little ones, and ended the sweet beguil- 

 ing songs. 



A new set was heard in the nook, the 

 rapid chitter of the downy woodpecker, 

 the whispers of cedar-birds, the rattle of the 

 grasshopper who goes clacking about as if 

 his internal machinery were out of order, 

 and lastly, alas ! the ear-piercing song of the 

 locust, which proclaimed in tones no one 

 could mistake that August was on the 

 threshold. 



