( 168 ) 



CHAPTER X. 



OCTOBER. 



October, herald of the falling year, has come,— the 

 shortening days, — the lengthening nights, — the cold 

 bleak winds, — the stormy blast as it sweeps along 

 stripping the trees of their leaves, and strewing the 

 woods with acorns and beech masts, providing a dainty 

 meal for 



" The restless wandering tenants of the sty: 

 From oak to oak they run with eager haste, 

 And, wrangling, share the first delicious taste 

 Of fallen acorn ; yet but thinly found, 

 'Till the strong gale has shook them to the ground. 

 It comes : and warring woods obedient wave : 

 Their home well pleased the joint adventurers leave ; 

 The trudging sow leads forth her numerous young, 

 Playful, and white, and clean, the briars among, 

 'Till briars and thorns increasing, fence them round, 

 Where last year's mould'ring leaves bestrew the ground, 

 And o'er their heads, loud lash'd by furious squalls, 

 Bright from their cups the rattling treasure falls." 



BloomfieloV s Farmer's Boy, Autumn. 



Autumn calls up many reflections of the past happy 

 summer time, when all was light and joy, — when per- 

 haps with a youthful companion, in whose heart we 

 wished to implant a love for Nature's beauties, and to 



