CHAPTER VIII. 



AUGUST. 



EXCEPT in magnificent floral displays, August is not a 

 favorite month with the naturalist. The characteristic 

 features of summer are well-nigh over, and when we linger 

 in the shade of the old oaks, our thoughts are more apt 

 to revert to what has been, than to become centered upon 

 what is. And yet how prone we are to forget the char- 

 acter of the seasons, once they are passed ! Probably the 

 remarkable rainfall and excessive humidity of the summer 

 of 1887 were forgotten as soon as the dusty days of Sep- 

 tember came with their blinding clouds of grit and whirl- 

 ing pillars of new-fallen leaves. As compared with other 

 summers in the last decade, it was one, however, that a 

 naturalist is likely to remember. 



Our total annual rainfall varies exceedingly. It has 

 been as little as 23-35 inches, and as much as 67 inches. 

 Comparing 1886 and 1887, there was a difference of 8'49 

 inches for the first ten months of the year, and this was 

 largely confined to May and the three summer months. 

 Of course, an additional rainfall of two inches effects great 

 changes. 



Let us consider the birds, as the most prominent form 

 of animal life in ordinary country neighborhoods. Late 

 in April and early in May the usual host of thrushes, 

 warblers, and finches appeared in their accustomed haunts. 

 They came, they sang, they nested ; and the middle of 



