The Chorus of the Forest 



I think most of the tints of the rainbow are repre- 

 sented among them. Some are palest blue-green, 

 decorated with straw color and lavender; others 

 are cowslip-yellow, with touches of maroon; some 

 are tan, with pink markings, and others terra cotta, 

 with canary-colored spots and gray lines. Some 

 are gray, with terra cotta half -moons; others are 

 wine-red, with tan; all are of beautiful basic color, 

 speckled, dotted, lined, striped, and spotted with 

 bright harmonizing or contrasting designs on their 

 wings of softest velvet down. Some have trans- 

 parent ovals so clear that fine print can be read 

 through them, set in their wings, and most moths 

 are large as the average warbler. They sweep so 

 close that your face is sensitive to the disturbance 

 of air in their passing, but you hear no sound. 

 Their flight is soft and perfectly noiseless. 



The owl can afford to be of silent wing, it so 

 dominates the night with its voice. It would give 

 me great satisfaction if I had some way of know- 

 ing surely whether other birds sleep serenely dur- 

 ing its vehement serenade either to the moon or to 

 a coveted mate, or whether they are awake and 

 shuddering with fear. 



I know how the heart of a frightened bird leaps 

 and throbs in its small breast, and I would be glad 

 to learn that they sleep soundly, but I doubt it. 

 They are awake and fluttering through the dark- 

 ness at such slight disturbance of other nature. 

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