Another sound which is typical of summer is the hum of insects' wings, sometimes, as near a beehive, rising to a subdued roar. The higher, thinner song of the mosquito's wings is unfortunately familiar to us, and we must remember that the varying tone of the hum of each species may be of the greatest importance to it as a means of recognition. Many beetles have a projecting horn on the under side of the body which they can snap against another projection, and by this means call their lady-loves, literally "playing the bones" in their minstrel serenade. Although we can readily distinguish the sounds which these insects produce, yet there are hundreds of small creatures, and even large ones, which are provided with organs of hearing, but whose language is too fine for our coarse perceptions. The vibrations--chirps, hums, and clicks--can be recorded on delicate instruments, but, just as there are shades and colours at both ends of the spectrum which our eyes cannot perceive, so there are tones running we know not how far beyond the scale limits which affect our ears. Some creatures utter noises so shrill, so sharp, that it pains our ears to listen to them, and these are probably on the borderland of our sound-world. Pipe, little minstrels of the waning year, In gentle concert pipe! Pipe the warm noons; the mellow harvest near; The apples dropping ripe; The sweet sad hush on Nature's gladness laid; The sounds through silence heard! Pipe tenderly the passing of the year. Harriet Mcewen Kimball. I love to hear thine earnest voice, Wherever thou art hid, Thou testy little dogmatist, Thou pretty Katydid! Thou mindest me of gentlefolks,-- Old gentlefolks are they,-- Thou say'st an undisputed thing In such a solemn way. Oliver Wendell Holmes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ AUGUST ------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE GRAY DAYS OF BIRDS The temptation is great, if we love flowers, to pass over the seed time, when stalks are dried and leaves are shrivelled, no matter how beautiful may be the adaptation for scattering or preserving the seed or how wonderful the protective coats guarding against cold or wet. Or if insects attract us by their many varied interests, we are more enthusiastic over the glories of the full-winged image than the less conspicuous, though no less interesting, eggs and chrysalides hidden away in crevices throughout the long winter. Thus there seems always a time when we hesitate to talk or write of our favourite theme, especially if this be some class of life on the earth, because, perchance, it is not at its best.