JULY. 115 



songs. At intervals during the hottest of the weather, 

 we hear the peculiar spinning notes of the harvest-fly, a 

 species of locust, beginning low and with a gradual swell, 

 increasing in loudness for a few seconds, then slowly 

 dying away into silence. To my mind these sounds are 

 vivid remembrancers of the pleasures and languishment 

 of noonday, of cool shades apart from sultry heats, of re- 

 pose beneath embowering canopies of willows, or grate- 

 ful repasts of fruits in the summer orchard. 



The season of haymaking has arrived, the mowers are 

 busy in their occupation, and the whetting of the scythe 

 blends harmoniously with the sounds of animated nature. 

 The air is filled with the fragrance of new-mown hay, 

 the dying incense-offering of the troops of flowers that 

 perish beneath the fatal scythe. Many are the delightful 

 remembrances connected with haymaking to those who 

 have spent their youth in the country. In moderate sum- 

 mer weather there is no more delightful occupation. Every 

 toil is pleasant that leads us into green fields and fills the 

 mind with the cheerfulness of all living things. 



But summer, with all its delightful occasions of joy and 

 rejoicing, is in one respect the most melancholy season of 

 the year. We are now the constant witnesses of some 

 regretful change in the aspect of nature, reminding us of 

 the fate of all things and the transitoriness of existence. 

 Every morning sun looks down upon the graves of whole 

 tribes of flowers that were but yesterday the pride and 

 glory of the fields. Day by day as I pursue my walks, 

 while rejoicing at the discovery of some new and beauti- 

 ful visitant of the meads, I am suddenly affected with 

 sorrow upon looking around in vain for the little com- 

 panion of my former excursions, now drooping and faded 

 and breathing its last breath of fragrance into the air. 



I am then reminded of early friends who are no longer 

 with the living ; who were cut down, one by one, like the 



