THE BEECH WOODS 



in long, irregular lines, they came over 

 the ridge to the north and went, honk- 

 honking, on their way to the smiling 

 South. These wild geese, reluctant to 

 leave their northern breeding grounds, 

 remained long after the great flight 

 took place, but now, instinct warning 

 them, they hurried to join their kindred 

 before the Storm King should let loose 

 his icy shafts. 



A few days later the skies became 

 dark, the west wind, which had been 

 rushing through the gray woods, died 

 down, and the family of partridges 

 started energetically scratching be- 

 neath the shelter of the beeches on 

 their knoll in search of food, making 

 a noisy rustling among the dead leaves. 

 Soon, however, the snow began to fall in 

 large, loose flakes and the wind started 

 up and swirled it about, beating it into 

 every crevice and chink. Madly the 

 flakes came racing and driving through 

 the air, settling downward and then 

 suddenly lifting and tossing upward, 

 to dance and hesitate, then swing and 

 circle gracefully downward to rest on 

 the ground. In a few minutes the 

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