EN ROUTE 



sway serenely at the tips of long, graceful cosmos 

 branches. Hardy geraniums are sturdily sending 

 out late blossoms, while dahlias, zinnias, China 

 asters, marigolds, ladies' slipper, larkspur, nastur- 

 tiums, and sweet alyssum make a brave show of 

 resisting frosty influences; but all the tenderer 

 flowers are dead, and darkened, drooping stalks 

 mark their graves. 



In this locality October is, par excellence, the 

 month of brilliant contrasts, but I doubt if you 

 have ever seen a greater than the one that awaits 

 us at the turning of this path. Here we come 

 upon a community of hemlocks, and, hidden deep 

 in the heart of this exclusive circle, dwells a beau- 

 tiful, shy woodbine. No one noted its progress as 

 it crept up through the evergreen branches, but 

 one morning, as if at the touch of a magician's 

 wand, flaming garlands and crimson festoons 

 swayed triumphantly among the dark tree-tops, 

 and radiant suspension bridges swung from one 

 high, graceful branch to another. Not a hint or 

 a suggestion do you see down below of the splen- 

 dor that breaks upon the heads of these forest 

 monarchs. The lavish outburst was all reserved 

 for their crowns. 



Let us turn into this sequestered hedge-lane. 



[47] 



