112 OLD PLYAIOUTH TRAILS 



shadow-dancing antics long after the nesting 

 season is over, and the partridge drums more or 

 less the year around. The other bird may have 

 much admiration for these actions if she sees 

 them, but never half so much as the bird who 

 performs. Nothing could equal that. 



The most beautiful moonlight nights we have 

 are those on which the moon is an hour or two 

 late. Then we see the day merge into real dark- 

 ness as velvety shadows slip quietly up out of the 

 earth and dance together. These congregated 

 under the pines at first, last night, and waited a 

 bit before they dared the shelter of deciduous 

 trees. Long after that they huddled on the mar- 

 gins of the open pasture as bathers do on the 

 pond shore when the water is cold, seeming to 

 put dark toes into the clear light and then with- 

 draw with a shudder. When they all went in I 

 do not know, for I was watching the sky. By 

 and by I looked back at the pasture and the open 

 places in the wood, and all alike were filled with a 

 wavering crowd that seemed to trip lightly and 

 noiselessly as if in a minuet. Little by little 

 they blotted out familiar outlines till only the 

 tallest of pines looming dark against the lighter 



