Autumn’s dominion had indeed begun on the night when Summer went away, with a yellow leaf here and a brown leaf there, but none had noticed it. Now it went at a quicker pace; and as time wore on, there came even more colours and greater splendour.
The lime trees turned bright yellow and the beech bronze, but the elder-tree even blacker than it had been. The bell-flower rang with white bells, where it used to ring with blue, and the chestnut tree blessed all the world with its five yellow fingers. The mountain ash shed its leaves that all might admire its pretty berries; the wild rose nodded with a hundred hips; the Virginia creeper broke over the hedge in blazing flames.
Then Autumn put his horn to his mouth and blew:
The loveliest things of Autumn’s pack In his motley coffers lay; Red mountain-berries Hips sweet as cherries, Sloes blue and black He hung upon every spray.
And blackbird and thrush chattered blithely in the copsewood, which gleamed with berries, and a thousand sparrows kept them company. The wind ran from one to the other and puffed and panted to add to the fun. High up in the sky, the sun looked gently down upon it all.
And the Prince of Autumn nodded contentedly and let his motley cloak flap in the wind.
“I am the least important of the four seasons and am scarcely lord in my own land,” he said. “I serve two jealous masters and have to please them both. But my power extends so far that I can give you a few glad days.”
Then he put his horn to his mouth and blew:
To the valley revellers hie! They are clad in autumnal fancy dresses, They are weary of green and faded tresses, Summer has vanished, Winter is nigh—— Hey fol—de—rol—day for Autumn!
But, the night after this happened, there was tremendous disturbance up on the mountain peaks, where the eternal snows had lain both in Spring’s time and Summer’s. It sounded like a storm approaching. The trees grew frightened, the crows were silent, the wind held its breath. Prince Autumn bent forward and listened: