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THE WANING YEAR 



Summer's fullness is scarcely realised when the 

 Sugar Maple flashes the signal of the passing year. 

 Against the solid masses of varied green a bright 

 splash of red glows unexpectedly in the sun, a 

 reminder of perpetual change even in the richest 

 abundance of growth. In the inspiring atmosphere 

 of spring there is the spirit of evanescence. Hope and 

 promise leave no room for thoughts of permanence 

 and stability. But in the rich abundance of summer's 

 meridian, when every tree is a bank of fohage, and 

 the stroller wades through an entanglement of Sweet 

 Clover, with promising Asters and Golden-rods, 

 when every sluggish stream is stifled with Rushes 

 or spread with a carpet of Water Lily leaves, when 

 swamps and marshes are rich with luxuriant vegeta- 

 tion and breathe a warm odour of life and growth, 

 when the familiar early flowers have given place to 

 ripe or ripening berries and seeds, and nature's full 

 fruition is all about, the longing hope of permanence 

 steals on imperceptibly. The impatience of spring 

 is gone, summer is at its best, and why should its 

 perfection not endure ^ Long preparation has brought 

 forth nature's masterpiece. Is there no pause for the 



