AUTUMNAL MORALITIES 121 



only the poor who know what money is worth. 

 It is only in October and November that we 

 feel all the charm of Aster lazvis. I think 

 of Bridget Elia's lament over the " good old 

 times " when she and her cousin were " not 

 quite so rich." Then the spending of a few 

 shillings had a zest about it. A purchase 

 was an event, a kind of festival. I believe 

 in Bridget's philosophy ; for the asters teach 

 the same; yes, and the goldenrods also. 

 They, too, have come up in the wake of the 

 scythe, and still dwarfed, having no time to 

 attain their natural growth, as if they knew 

 that winter was upon them, are already 

 topped with yellow. I carry home a scanty 

 half handful of the two, asters and golden- 

 rods, as treasure-trove. They are sure to be 

 welcome. When all the fields were bright 

 with such things, they seemed hardly worth 

 house-room. This late harvest of blossoms 

 is one small compensation for all the ugliness 

 inflicted upon the landscape by the habit 

 inveterate with highway " commissioners " 

 of mowing back-country roadsides. As if 

 stubble were prettier than a hedge ! 



Now I pass two long-armed white oaks, 



