212 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



springward to pink-pouched cypripedes 

 and hermit thrushes. 



A few more golden days and now 

 once again the wind returns; low puffs, 

 sharp moaning from the east, then 

 northern gusts. October has but two 

 more days to live. Will the wind 

 drop to-night? No ! blow, rack, blow, 

 the stars glisten as if a veil had been 

 torn away between them and the earth. 



Another day: the wind veers from 

 north to west and lessens; to-night 

 will bring a "killing frost." The 

 gardener draws the sashes on the violet 

 frames, covers the plant pit tightly 

 with straw mats, and muffles a few pet 

 border things to give them a last 

 chance. The farmer's wife takes in 

 her geraniums, slipped in old tin cans, 

 her amaryllis from the south porch, her 

 cacti and Fuchsias, putting them in the 

 warmest window of the kitchen, takes 



