OCTOBER DAYS 



with a harsh clangor some sworn enemy 

 of the sable brotherhood. Their gay- 

 clad smaller cousins, the jays, are for the 

 most part silently industrious among the 

 gold and bronze of the beeches, flitting 

 to and fro with flashes of blue as they 

 gather mast, but now and then finding 

 time to scold an intruder with an endless 

 variety of discordant outcry. 



How sharp the dark shadows are cut 

 against the sunlit fields, and in their 

 gloom how brightly shine the first fallen 

 leaves and the starry bloom of the asters. 

 In cloudy days and even when rain is 

 falling the depths of the woods are not 

 dark, for the bright foliage seems to 

 give forth light and casts no shadows 

 beneath the lowering sky. 



The scarlet maples burn, the golden 

 leaves of poplar and birch shine through 

 the misty veil, and the deep purple of 

 the ash glows as if it held a smoulder- 

 ing fire that the first breeze might fan 

 into a flame, and through all this lumi- 

 nous leafage one may trace branch and 

 twig as a wick in a candle flame. Only 

 the evergreens are dark as when they 

 bear their steadfast green in the des- 

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