THE DEAD LEAVES FALL 
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united* A weasel would not have devoured the 
body so completely, and it has been evidently the 
work of a vagrant cat. The bill and long tongue, 
with a few clinging feathers, are left as if for pur- 
poses of identification, and these, with the gathered 
quills and lighter remnants, tell that the victim was 
an oven bird. The cautious, retiring nature that 
chose the low shrubbery and escaped the floberts and 
catapults throughout the summer betrayed the little 
fellow to his fate in the fall. In spring the woods 
resounded to his ecstatic melody. Now there are 
only a few scattered feathers to record the diminu- 
tive tragedy of his end. In the records that strew 
the woods, perpetually recurring and perpetually 
covered up, we see the unfolding of nature's plan. 
Next spring the loud repeated call of the Oven-bird 
will resound through the renewed shrubbery, and in 
autumn the prowling vagrant will stalk its silent 
victim. 
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