THE DREAM OF THE YELLOW-THROAT 



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ANY of us look back with longing 

 to the days of Columbus; we chafe 

 at the thought of no more continents to 

 discover; no unknown seas to encompass. 

 But at our very doors is an " undiscovered 

 bourne/' from which, while the traveller in- 

 variably returns, yet he will have penetrated 

 but slightly into its mysteries. This unexplored 

 region is night. 



When the dusk settles down and the crea- 

 tures of sunlight seek their rest, a new realm of life 

 awakens into being. The flaring colours and loud bustle 

 of the day fade and are lost, and in their place come soft, 

 gray tones and silence. The scarlet tanager seeks some 

 hidden perch and soon from the same tree slips a silent, 



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