70 Duck-shooting in Wermland, Sweden. 



bleaberry bushes, which form the undergrowth of the Swedish 

 forests. 



Everything now warns us that the Northern winter is approaching. 

 The winter migrants are fast coming down from Lapland. Many 

 of our summer birds have left. The night frosts have set in, and, 

 as I sit and look out of my window on a forest tableau, painted in 

 every shade of red, yellow, and green, I think of the beautiful lines 

 of the American poet 



" It is brilliant autumn time, the most brilliant time of all, 

 When the gorgeous woods are gleaming as the leaves begin to fall 

 When the maple boughs are crimson, and the hickory shines like gold, 

 When the noons are sultry hot, and the nights are frosty cold ; 

 When the country has no green save the sword-grass by the rill, 

 And the willows in the valleys, and the pine upon the hill ; 

 And the pippin leaves the bough, and the sumach fruit is red, 

 And the quail is piping loud from the buckwheat where he fed ; 

 When the sky is blue as steel, and the river clear as glass, 

 When the mist is on the mountain, and the network on the grass j 

 When the harvest is all housed, and the farmer's work is done, 

 And the woodlands are resounding with the spaniel and the gun." 



