112 THE WILES OF A WARBLER 



people are gone from their old haunts. The 

 gay little party who made the tree-tops lively 

 all summer, who lived their joyous yet hard- 

 working lives among the spruces, and cheered 

 us with their tuneful voices, have disappeared, 

 and the " upper stories " are deserted. 



" happy life, to soar and sway, 

 Above the life by mortals led, 

 And when the Autumn comes to flee 

 Wherever sunshine beckons thee." 



