THE PAGEANT OF THE SEASONS 95 



resources. In addition to the soft music of this 

 harvest evening, the sun goes from our view accom- 

 panied by a pageant of many-coloured August 

 clouds. Could anyone look upon such a picture of 

 concord without being fascinated? When I look 

 upon the sublime in Nature my mind seems to be 

 lifted higher than earth ; the scene almost becomes 

 a vision of Paradise. The sinking sun may at times 

 affect our inmost soul more than any other of 

 Nature's phenomena. A sunset awakens many 

 sweet memories in the mind ; we think of things 

 which are past, and to hours spent with Nature, 

 which have always given enjoyment. 



But to return to the cornfields. On a fence at 

 my side there sits a baby spotted flycatcher ; it calls 

 many times, and shakes it wings, then its mother 

 appears, and in her beak is a number of flies, which 

 are given to the youngster, its little body being 

 agitated with pleasure. Although I am only four 

 feet distant, the parent soon returns, and again gives 

 the young bird more food. Screaming swifts, look- 

 ing like crescent-feathered darts, skim across from 

 hamlet to cornfield, now nearly out of sight in the 

 pale blue vault of heaven, and again almost touching 

 the yellow sheaves in their downward swoop. A 

 solitary hare sits near the margin of the uncut corn, 

 then runs in along his own made pathway. Swal- 

 lows twitter, and yellow-hammers sing from tele- 



