Dead Leaves 205 



springtide, when they first timidly looked 

 forth ? They greeted the returning birds, the 

 whole merry host of north-bound warblers, 

 and what startling fafts of the bird-world 

 they might reveal ! There is no eye-witness 

 equal to the leaf, and with them lives and 

 dies many a secret that even the most patient 

 ornithologist can never gain. How much 

 they overhear of what the birds are saying ! 

 to how much entrancing music they listen 

 that falls not upon men's ears ! What a view 

 of the busy world above us has the fluttering 

 leaf that crowns the tall tree's topmost twig ! 

 Whether in storm or sunshine, veiled in 

 clouds or beneath a starlit sky, whatsoever 

 happens, there is the on-looking leaf, a nat- 

 uralist worth knowing could we but learn its 

 language. 



A word here as to the individuality of living 

 leaves. Few persons are so blind as to have 

 never noticed how leaves differ. Of every 

 size and shape and density, they have varied 

 experiences, if not different functions, and 

 their effeft upon the rambler in his wander- 

 ings is by no means always the same. At 

 high noon, when the midsummer sun strives 

 to parch the world, let the rambler stand 

 ig 



