CHAPTER IX 



An August Night 



THERE may have been bigger, 

 brighter moons seen somewhere, 

 some time, than the one which rose 

 beyond Midlothian Wood the night 

 of August twenty-second, but I doubt 

 it. The curving roadway and the 

 winding walk that led down to the 

 bridge were revealed with almost mid- 

 day clearness, and underneath the 

 oaks along the fringes of the open 

 glades elusive lights and shadows 

 played. And the night was filled with 

 music. 



We expect little of that during the 

 dog days from the feathered folk. 

 They are mostly in seclusion. In fact, 

 the average songbird of this latitude 



[123] 



