AN OCTOBER DIARY. 331 



view, as I lingered in the lane, it did seem as thongli the 

 years were shorter than formerly, and the elasticity of 

 youth was growing less and less ; so that it cannot be 

 long before my song, too, will be shortened, syllable by 

 syllable. What further might have been thought upon 

 these doleful subjects can never be known. My unwill- 

 ing cogitation was happily interrupted by the looked-for 

 owl, which heralded his approach by a wild too-whoo-oo, 

 that was music to my expectant ears. This owl was of 

 slender build, with wide-spread, tapering wings and a 

 generally hawk-like movement, as it sailed with speed 

 from, tree to tree and bush to bush, as though looking 

 for something it had lost. I had hopes of cultivating 

 its acquaintance, but it would not. Every attempt to 

 follow proved a miserable failure. 



The rapidity with which the gray squirrels make their 

 nests of dead leaves and twigs is something marvellous. 

 In a single night the work is often done, unless they 

 subsequently add a little finer material for the lining. 

 To-day I saw a large, globular leaf-nest near the J;op of 

 a tall oak, which I know was not there yesterday. I 

 was then examining every twig of this same tree for a 

 little warbler, that eluded all my efforts, and I could not 

 have overlooked so prominent a mass of leaves as this 

 nest. No one squirrel could have done this work. It 

 is the result of joint labors of three or four, and, unless 

 they can work in darkness, must have been, even then, 

 accomplished rapidly. How they secure these leaves 

 against winter's winds is not clear, but they are always 

 intact at the close of the season. To be sure, the twigs 



