Autumn is a gay time. It is a time for raking leaves into huge piles that are just right for jumping into, a time for fires that give off heavy, pungent odors. But it is a sad time, too, for leaves that lend shade and beauty fall from the trees.

Leaves fall because their work—the vital task of food-making—is done. But even as they come down, buds have formed from which new leaves will spring.

In a simple, direct, and highly appealing style Miss Bancroft has caught the feeling of nature's continuity, of the cessation of activity in the fall to be followed by the revival of growth in the spring.

Readers will identify the many leaves and trees that Miss Horogian has so beautifully portrayed in the story. With careful line and bold imagination she has caught the spirit of autumn:

Down come the yellow leaves:

red and yellow,

orange and gold,

green and brown.

Down come the leaves to the ground. 

From the dust jacket