What happened to Nature's gay dress this fall?
When she put it on, she found that all
The red and orange had faded to yellow.
She called the designer a sorry fellow
To fob off a dull gold and russet gown
For the bright one she usually wore to town.
But the designer blamed it on the dyer
And HE declared that it was the fire
Of summer that faded every hue
And there was nothing he could do
At this late date. Nature could but concur
And put on early her white winter fur.
By Phyllis Beebe