102 AUTUMN NOTES IN IOWA 



these days of machinery seem ahnost as antiquated 

 as making tallow candles or riding a high bicycle. 



At the Fort the large plaza is still in rich green, 

 with red clover in scattered bloom, crickets making 

 low music, and horned larks warbling short sub- 

 dued strains from their concealed shelter in the 

 grass. As we strolled across this open parade 

 ground about half -past five, we heard the bugles 

 antiphonal across the half-mile or so of space; 

 then came the deep roar and the wandering smoke 

 of the sunset gun, the flag fell sliding from its tall 

 staff — and officially the day was done. A little 

 later, electric lights suddenly gleamed around the 

 quadrangle and the moon rose beyond the bar- 

 racks. Little groups of soldiers were walking 

 about, or sitting on the piazzas of the grim rect- 

 angular military homes ; but the scene as a whole 

 produced a sense not merely of Sunday quiet, but 

 of temporary desertion. Few horses were to be 

 seen in the stable yards. Many of the troops had 

 recently left for Cuba, and it is said a great crowd 

 gathered in the city streets to see them off, for the 

 movement of considerable bodies of regulars is 

 still something of a novelty in the capital of this 

 peaceful agricultural state. 



The hardy little wood-sorrel is one of a very few 

 herbs still in bloom here. In the street cars one 

 sees groups of young women returning from parks 

 or country carrying richly tinted oak branches. 



