OCTOBER 87 



mitted into some sanctuary of sylvan deities, 

 bathed in an entrancing, weird, mystic light. 

 There were, however, some places along the walks 

 where maple fruit lay so thickly that it was almost 

 impossible to pass without shpping. As the days 

 passed, faster and faster fell the general foliage 

 over lawns, walks, and parkings. Bonfires gleamed 

 brightly at twihght. The children soon had ample 

 materials for the many games they enjoy with fal- 

 len leaves — house-making in which ground plans 

 are sufficient, without walls or roof; fox and geese 

 in the wheel with many a leafy spoke. 



On the seventeenth the air seemed full of small 

 brownish beetles often seen at this time of year. 

 On the twenty-fifth, after wintry days when a 

 heavy overcoat was needed and tennis playing in 

 low shoes was sacrifice to the god of grit, summer 

 temperature returned — for a day. The grackle 

 flocks have not been noted now for a week or more. 

 Today a blustering cold mnd is blowing the dust 

 through the smallest cracks and whirling the fallen 

 leaves into fantastic heaps. The hard maples 

 show only bare branches. Scarcely a bird note 

 can be heard, and even the jays seem to skulk 

 about the gardens as if forlorn or ashamed to re- 

 main when so many fellow birds have departed 

 for the winter. Tomorrow comes November. 



