CHAPTER XIX 

 FALLING LEAVES 



'F there were any doubts or illusions 

 about it before, there can be no un- 

 certainty now that autumn is ad- 

 vancing with rapid strides. The gar- 

 den is strewn with dead leaves, all in their turn, 

 and all efforts to keep the lawns tidy are unavail- 

 ing, for ten minutes after they are swept showers 

 of leaves bestrew them again. There are dead 

 leaves and dead leaves, however, some being full 

 of crisp brightness and activity, even though life 

 has gone from them, whilst others look dark, dull, 

 and sodden in their unlovely decay. The large 

 white-heart cherry covers the ground with beauti- 

 ful golden yellow. The beech and the elm set the 

 lawn alive with crisp, dancing fairies, which skip, 

 frisk, and circle as they romp all over its surface. 

 But the ash and the walnut foreshadow dank 

 desolation. Their leaves lie flat, helpless, and 

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