To our country the fieldfares come in autumn earlier or
later, according to the coldness of the season. They are here before the frosts have given a last pinch to the yellow leaves to let them fall drifting . upon the wind. They come in large flocks, which quickly break up into smaller companies, and, spreading over all the soft meadows and pasture-fields, remind us of the parties of misselrthrushes to be seen on the bright green after-grass when the hay has been carried. The golden maple in the hedgerow becomes bare, and shows its naked limbs, crooked as if with rheumatism and wrinkled as if from age. The last pale-yellowleaf quivers on the hazel-bough, and such as still cling to the young oak-tree are parched and ruddy brown. For the hedge is putting on its winter gaiety, and the glistening holly-bush that has not shed a leaf is decked out in its richest ornament in expectation of coming festivity. The hips upon the briars where pale dog- roses once grew have turned to ruby. And every day the haws, clustering on the whitethorn that hid itself in early summer under a bridal robe, of may, assume a deeper crimson whilst the bush darkens as if stained with blood. Yet the fieldfares, slowly moving across the meadows, take no heed of all this superfluity of Wealth. They are still poor from their journeyings, and the weather is moist and warm, so they feed -eagerly on worms and slugs and whatever living thing they can find amongst the wet grass, always getting fatter to withstand the cold and hunger they must certainly
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