t places--in the
tree-tops, in the thick greenwood of the bushes, in the reeds of the
marsh; ere long young living things are twittering there, the father and
mother-birds call each other, singing to be of good cheer, and taking joy
in caring for their young. At that season of love, of growth, of
unfolding life, meseems, as I walk through the woods, that the
loving-kindness of the Most High is more than ever nigh unto me; for the
forest is as a church, a glorious cathedral at highest festival, all
filled with light and song, and decked in every nook and corner with gay
fresh flowers and leafy garlands.

Then all is suddenly hushed. It is summer.

But in Autumn the forest is a banqueting-hall where men must say
farewell, but with good cheer, in hope of a happy meeting. All that has
lived is hasting to the grave. Nevertheless on some fair days everything
wears as it were the face of a friend who holds forth a hand at parting.
The wide vaults of the woods are finely bedecked with red and yellow
splendor, and albeit the voices of birds are few, albeit the cry of the
jay, and the song of the nightingale, and the pipe of the bull-finch must
be mute, the greenwood is not more dumb than in the Spring; the hunter's
horn rings through the trees and away far over their tops, with the
baying of the hounds, the clapping of the drivers, and the huntsmen
shouting the view halloo. Every bright, strong, healthful child of man,
then feels himself lord of all that creeps or flies, and his soul is
ready to soar from his breast. How pure is the air, how spicy is the
scent from the fallen leaves on such an autumn day! In Spring, truly,
white and rose-red, blue and yellow chequer the green turf; but now gold
and crimson are bright in the tree tops, and on the service trees. The
distance is clearer than before, and fine silver threads wave in the air
as if to catch us, and keep us in the woods whose beauty is so fast
fading.

The sunny autumn air was right full of these threads when on St.
Maurice's day--[September 22nd]--Ann and I went forth to our duty of
fetching in the birds which had been caught in the springes set for them.

When birds are early to flock and flee
Hard and cold will winter be,

saith the woodman's saw; and they had gathered early this year--thrushes
and field-fares; many a time the take was so plentiful that our little
wallets could scarce hold them, and among them it was a pity to see many
a merry,