MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



trees. But they are only preparatory touches, 

 mere indications of what is to come; for, with. the 

 march of autumn, one summer decoration after 

 another will take on glowing tints; and thus the 

 radiance will grow until the gay season closes 

 and the dead leaves flutter to the ground. 



A few weeks hence the summer trees will stand 

 thoroughly denuded, but no wholesale disrobing 

 awaits the evergreens. Portions of their old 

 coat have grown brown and are dropping off, but 

 the new growth, that in the spring and early sum- 

 mer was of so tender a hue, has gone on darken- 

 ing, until at last it has the appearance of rich 

 green velvet, as it proudly matches itself against 

 the dying foliage of the summer trees. 



Yes, autumn has come! Even if you close 

 your eyes, scent and hearing still testify unmis- 

 takably to the fact. The fragrance of mellow 

 leaves, of late flowers, and of dead-ripe fruits, and 

 the rallying calls of feathered leaders eager to 

 marshal their forces and to set out on their 

 southern expeditions these are all distinctively 

 autumn indications. 



Several bird families have already left us, and 

 others are on the eve of departure. In this beau- 

 tiful secluded corner a pair of wood-thrushes 



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