Then the curtains were swept aside swiftly.  The stage had been transformed into a lovely little corner of creation, where trees and flowers grew and moss carpeted the earth.  A soft wind blew and it was the gray of dawn.  Suddenly a robin began to sing, then a song sparrow joined him, and then several orioles began talking at once.  The light grew stronger, the dew drops trembled, flower perfume began to creep out to the audience; the air moved the branches gently and a rooster crowed.  Then all the scene was shaken with a babel of bird notes in which you could hear a cardinal whistling, and a blue finch piping.  Back somewhere among the high branches a dove cooed and then a horse neighed shrilly.  That set a blackbird crying, “T’check,” and a whole flock answered it.  The crows began to caw and a lamb bleated.  Then the grosbeaks, chats, and vireos had something to say, and the sun rose higher, the light grew stronger and the breeze rustled the treetops loudly; a cow bawled and the whole barnyard answered.  The guineas were clucking, the turkey gobbler strutting, the hens calling, the chickens cheeping, the light streamed down straight overhead and the bees began to hum.  The air stirred strongly, and away in an unseen field a reaper clacked and rattled through ripening wheat while the driver whistled.  An uneasy mare whickered to her colt, the colt answered, and the light began to decline.  Miles away a rooster crowed for twilight, and dusk was coming down.  Then a catbird and a brown thrush sang against a grosbeak and a hermit thrush.  The air was tremulous with heavenly notes, the lights went out in the hall, dusk swept across the stage, a cricket sang and a katydid answered, and a wood pewee wrung the heart with its lonesome cry.  Then a night hawk screamed, a whip-poor-will complained, a belated killdeer swept the sky, and the night wind sang a louder song.  A little screech owl tuned up in the distance, a barn owl replied, and a great horned owl drowned both their voices.  The moon shone and the scene was warm with mellow light.  The bird voices died and soft exquisite melody began to swell and roll.  In the centre of the stage, piece by piece the grasses, mosses and leaves dropped from an embankment, the foliage softly blew away, while plainer and plainer came the outlines of a lovely girl figure draped in soft clinging green.  In her shower of bright hair a few green leaves and white blossoms clung, and they fell over her robe down to her feet.  Her white throat and arms were bare, she leaned forward a little and swayed with the melody, her eyes fast on the clouds above her, her lips parted, a pink tinge of exercise in her cheeks as she drew her bow.  She played as only a peculiar chain of circumstances puts it in the power of a very few to play.  All nature had grown still, the violin sobbed, sang, danced and quavered on alone, no voice in particular; the soul of the melody of all nature combined in one great outpouring.