THE AUTUMN PANORAMA 189 



This is a good beechnut season, and the satis- 

 faction of gathering and eating a few plump triangular 

 nuts is a proof that man was intended to satisfy his 

 own wants. The finest products of tropical countries 

 can never give the same satisfaction as the beechnuts 

 gathered from among the leaves with our own eager 

 fingers, or plucked from the branches after a laborious 

 dimb. The Wild Plum hidden in the woods, the 

 Mandrake, the Ground Cherry, the Choke Cherry, 

 all have charms above the finest fruit of the orchard 

 to those who know their haunts and seek them in 

 their seasons. A gardener may supply Mushrooms 

 at any season, but he catmot give the relish that comes 

 from gathering them in the grey, misty twilight, when 

 the lingering dew forms in crystal globes in the 

 sunken leaves and dehneates every thread in the 

 cobwebs on the grass. And when the double report 

 of a shotgun comes over from the marsh we must 

 temper our condemnation of the cruel, killing pro- 

 pensity with thoughts of the tempting satisfaction of 

 winning food from reluctant nature. The real enjoy- 

 ment of a Blue-bill or Whistle-wing is known only 

 to those who have seen it careen over the decoys. 



Squirrels take special delight in mocking other 

 Beechnut gatherers. They scatter the shrunken, 

 unfilled nuts all about, and leer from the upper 

 branches at the disappointment of the bipeds under 

 the trees. Plump, full nuts they never throw down. 



