192 
THE DEAD LEAVES FALL 
grey against a background of black* That is uncom- 
fortable and apparently fruitless* Now he peeps out 
from behind an Elm, so close that the round of his 
bright, black eye can be clearly discerned* He moves 
around out of sight, hides a moment, then flits away 
behind a dense clump of Cedars* Again the damp 
stillness settles down. It is strange how the departure 
of such a tiny atom of life could have made such a 
change* 
A pea gall drops from a clinging leaf high amongst 
the thinning branches and rolls over the wet ground* 
The tiny insect that has constructed for itself this 
little spherical habitation at the expense of the oak 
leaf is prepared for a long hybernation* It will lie 
among the fallen leaves all winter and will not 
respond to the returning warmth of spring. Then 
its pea-like habitation will have lost its fresh colour, 
but will still contain the microscopic spark of life. 
It will thus inertly survive the summer and the 
succeeding winter, to come forth on the following 
spring, mingling with the myriad insect life of the 
woods. 
The young hemlocks spread out like umbrellas, 
making convenient resting-places during the inter- 
mittent showers. In the darkest shade the matted 
twigs and needles bear the record of a forest tragedy. 
Tiny feathers are scattered about, tail and wing 
quills, and lighter airy down that can scarcely be 
