THE LOOM OF AUTUMN igi 



ing with the blackened leaves of the 

 pickerel weed, meanwhile have turned 

 into a bank of pink and yellow. 



The dogwood, Cornus florida, stands 

 out from all the crowding group of 

 trees and bushes, suggesting a moral 

 sketch by Hogarth, which might be 

 called, The Past, Present, and Future 

 of a Virtuous Tree. The gaily col- 

 oured leaves are the badges of past 

 service, the rosettes of polished, red, 

 brown-tipped berries make a present 

 feast for worthy pilgrim birds. The 

 well-wrapped flower buds capping the 

 season's growth, with their square par- 

 cels, hold the next spring's promise, 

 when by unfurling their white flags 

 they will call a truce with the frost and 

 tell the farmer that he may fearlessly 

 plant his Indian corn. 



All this time the South Wind is blow- 

 ing with summer fervour, only chilled 



