41 



^'■\ 



W 



" Along the roadside, like the flowers of gold 

 That tawny Incas for their gardens wrought, 

 Heavy with sunshine droops the goldenrod," 



the flower most typical of sturdy American energy and independence. 



throwing to the ]:)reeze its graceful richness of delicac}- and color. A 



branch of brilliant maple leaves, rival- 

 ling the sunset inline, waves gently 

 to and fro, a warning of the chill of 

 winier soon to come. Two great elms, 

 guarding a deserted homestead at 

 the end of the road, indicate the long 

 battle with fortune fought b}' one of 

 the early settlers of Gardner. The 

 grass under the great trees, dried by 

 the fierce August heats, invites us to 

 its soft embrace, 



"* * * * bright clouds, 

 ^Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven, — 

 Their bases on the mountains — their white 

 tops 

 lining in the far ether, — fire the air 

 ,\'ith a reflected radiance," 



and we rejoice in all the glorious 

 wealth of display and generous pro- 

 fusion of the waning of a New Eng- 

 land summer. 

 In the darkest corner of the dark 

 woods we seek and find another of 

 the ghost flower family, the many- 

 flowered Indian pipe ( Mo)iotropa hy- 

 popitys ) . 



Beautiful as the location is, the 

 desolation of the fine old homestead 

 strikes us to the heart, and the sense 

 of loneliness grows within us when we 

 learn that a few years since, there 

 was found under the bushes by the 

 road, where it had l)een hidden for 

 more than sixty }ears, a skeleton, 

 with a l)ullet-liole through the griii- 

 nincr skull. The careful concealment 



Indian Pipe. 



( Maiiy-acnvcrcil.) 



