ELDERBERRIES. 75 



Across the fields and bogs is heard the shot 

 of the hunter. The cottontail is bagged by the 

 good marksman. The whirr of the quail's 

 wings is heard less often than of yore and sug- 

 gests the propriety of sparing to the country 

 the friendly fellowship of Bob White's call by 

 additional protection to this desirable bird. 



Sometimes a woodcock is found in the game- 

 bag; less often, a plover. The pheasant has 

 failed to respond to the efforts of the G-ovem- 

 ment at propagation. Perhaps some genius of 

 the future may evolve a sport for men lacking 

 in the destruction of bird life, yet including the 

 zest of the search and the rural tramp. 



"With summer comes the sunflower and all 

 the golden sisterhood of the Compositae. As 

 the year matures she decks herself with the 

 purple and. white of the aster, the brilliant blue 

 and red of the lobelias, retaining for her final 

 solace the cerulean charms of the fringed gen- 

 tian. 



Where the buttercup and the water-crow- 

 foot spread their enchantment, the withered 

 leaves have fallen. The duck-weed, the pond- 

 weed, and the selaginella have had their day. 

 Grradually the birds disappear, taking wing for 

 their tropical haunts. Comes a day when a cold 

 breath whistles through the naked trees, fringes 

 the stream with glistening ice among the ragged 



