He said to mother, "It will be winter soon."
"Why do you think so, Peter?"
"I have seen red leaves," said Peter.
"But, Peter, a few red leaves do not count. There are red leaves in the summer. You must watch until you see many red, yellow, and brown leaves."
"What makes the leaves red and yellow, mother? Is it magic?" asked Peter. "Can you do it?"
"Perhaps it is a kind of magic, Peter. It is like the clouds turning into snow. I cannot do that."
Then Peter watched for all the trees to turn. At last they were bright with colors.
The maples were red and yellow; the oaks a deep red. The beeches were a bright yellow.
Even the elm trees in front of the house were yellow. Now Polly liked more than ever to swing. The swing took her way up among the yellow leaves.
Then, one day, the leaves began to fall. Down they came, a few at a time. The next day more fell, and the next and the next.