N a recent half -hour's relaxation, while 

 comfortably stretched in my hammock 

 upon the porch of my country studio, 

 I was surprised with a singular enter- 

 tainment. I soon found myself most studiously 

 engaged. Entwining the corner post of the piazza, 

 and extending for some distance along the eaves, 

 a luxuriant vine of bittersweet had made itself at 

 home. The currant-like clusters of green fruits, 

 hanging in pendent clusters here and there, were 

 now nearly mature, and were taking on their golden 

 hue, and the long, free shoots of tender growth were 

 reaching out for conquest on right and left in all 

 manner of graceful curves and spirals. Through 



