256 



IN AUTUMN. 



I shall long thank the jays for cheering a lonely 

 traveler. 



An hour later, the birds thought better of the 

 day, and every hedge-row rang with merry music, 

 but the pleasure of the earliest sounds I had heard 

 was not forgotten, when their continuing screams 

 marred the melody of red-birds and foxy finches. 

 But why were they so persistently noisy, and so 

 confined to one spot ? My curiosity was aroused 

 and I threaded a tangled brake to my sorrow. 

 In a cluster of sassafras sprouts were several jays 

 and all intent upon an object upon the ground. 

 I hurried on, held back by green briers that were 

 really my friends, and finally reached the spot. 

 By mere accident I escaped a serious encount- 

 er with our most treacherous if not danger- 

 ous mammal. A skunk had caught a blue jay 

 and scattered its feathers far and near. The 

 victim's companions were bemoaning its fate or 

 berating the murderer, I know not which, nor 

 did I pause to determine. I assumed the former 

 as more creditable to them and so score another 

 point in favor of these maligned birds. 



What though there are violets still in the 

 meadows, Nature is rugged now ; and, among the 

 gnarly branches of the oaks, better the shrill cry 

 of the jay, as the north wind sweeps by, than the 

 soothing melody of summer's tuneful thrushes. 

 November needs all the help that she can get to 



