Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

started up from a naked tree and glided gracefully and silently away. Once a blue-jay “clunked” noisily, probably because of the presence of the hawk. Grassoppers were abundant and at every step they popped up frantically on all sides, and alighting on the crisp leaves, sounding like the falling of rain.

     Passing thru the scrubly woods, I came upon some stump-fields which reminded me of forsaken graveyards. From here I followed the edge of a plowed field until I came to a wide lane, that led down to Carr’s Orchard. This was where Bill,King and I had found about a bushel and a half on a hunt, which I irrele­vantly mentioned in the account of our Flag Rushabout September 1910. It was with great expectation of a plentiful crop that I came here today.

     As I was about to climb the fence, I was surprised to hear the melody of a song-