THE BEECH WOODS 



tiller of that delicious scent, and here 

 they grow — wild strawberries hiding 

 in luscious clusters, ripe and red in the 

 grass among the stumps of the clear- 

 ing. A hatful of these delicious beau- 

 ties is worth travelling many miles to 

 obtain, and the fun of gathering is no 

 small part of the pleasure, for as each 

 hidden cluster is discovered there is 

 always felt that instant thrill of sur- 

 prise, and the welcome given the bearer 

 of such a hatful is most spontaneous, 

 to say the least, especially if they are 

 the first of the season. 



On the other side of the woods, near 

 the western fence, the June berry tree 

 is loaded with its purplish-red fruit. 

 Nearly all the birds of the Beech Woods 

 seemed to be feeding upon this fav- 

 ourite fruit; cedar waxwings in their 

 smooth garb were there, and red- 

 headed woodpeckers kept up a con- 

 tinual procession to and from the tree. 

 Orioles and robins, flickers and black 

 birds all congregated to feast and fetch 

 for their hungry young. It is said the 

 Indians in days gone by looked upon 

 the June berry as an important part of 

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