282 THE ADIRONDACK. 



becomes deeper and sadder as one enters the forest 

 and hears the leaves rustling to his tread, and the 

 sound of the squirrel cracking the nuts amid the 

 dying tree-tops. 



The trees have a melancholy aspect about them — 

 they appear to be conscious that their glory is depart- 

 ing ; and every leaf, as it loosens itself from the stem 

 where it has nodded and swayed the livelong summer 

 in joy, and flutters to the earth, seems to lie down as 

 a sad memorial of the departing year. 



But for once in autumn I have had none of these 

 feelings. Roaming through this glorious region, and 

 along the foot of these mountains, I have seen summer 

 die as I never saw it die before. There has been a 

 beauty and brightness and glory about the changing 

 foliage this year, I never before witnessed. No 

 drenching rains faded the colors before their time, and 

 amid the clear weather and slight frosts, the summer 

 has died like the dolphin, changing from beauty to 

 beauty : and Autumn, the usually sober, serious, 

 sober Autumn, has seemed the most frolicsome fellow 

 of all the year. Stand in one of these deep valleys, 

 and look around you on the shores and hill-slopes and 

 mountain ridges ! Autumn, with his brush and 



