286 AUTUMNAL SCENERY. 



over the earth, when the air is clear, the winds hushed, and 

 the leaves are still and moveless on the trees ; and then to 

 look along the hillsides, and mark the bright sunlight, and 

 the deep shadows, the green of the fir, the hemlock, and the 

 spruce, the yellow of the birch, the crimson of the maple, 

 the dark brown of the beech, the grey of the oak, the silver 

 glow of the popple, and the varying shades of all these, 

 mingling and blending in all the harmony of brilliant color- 

 ing. Why, these hillsides are decked like a maiden in her 

 beauty, like a bride robed for the altar ! Talk about spring- 

 time, or summer ! Green on the hillside ! green in the 

 meadows and pastures ! green everywhere all around is 

 changeless and everlasting green ! as if hillside and valley, 

 forest and field, had but a single dress for morning, noon, 

 and night, and that only and always green ! True, there is 

 the music of the birds, joyous notes and variant, happy and 

 hilarious, in the spring-time, but there is no cricket under 

 the flat stone in the pasture, his song is not heard in the 

 stone wall, or in the corner of the fences ; no music of the 

 katydid ; no tapping of the woodpecker on the hollow tree, 

 or the dead limb ; no chattering of the squirrel, as he 

 gathers his winter store ; no pattering of the faded leaves, 

 as they come so quietly down from their places ; no falling 

 of the ripened nuts, loosened from their burs or shucks by 

 the recent frosts. All these sounds belong to the calm 

 autumnal days, and while they differ the whole heavens from 

 the merry songs of spring, there is nothing sad about them. 

 No ! No ! nothing sad. I remember (and who that was 



