820 UPLAND AND MEADOW. 



suited the season, in all cases ; for we hud only to refer 

 to the proper tree, later in the season, to prove that the 

 tree was, at least for once, a true prophet. 



As weather proverbs will alwa^'s be in vogue, it is 

 desirable to have some meaningless ones that are appli- 

 cable to any season, and this is one of them. 



The Indians, it would appear, were accustomed to 

 cut off the ash-trees as soon as they were large enough 

 for " basket stuff," and used but a very small portion of 

 each. For this reason they soon became scarce, and 

 now, in post -Indian times, as the tree is one of slow 

 growth, the oaks, elms, and hickories have gotten the 

 start, and are all found of much larger size than any 

 ash-tree I have ever seen. 



October 13. — Fog. How much this little word sug- 

 gests to the rambler, when, up at sunrise, he finds that 

 he can see nothing but the very nearest objects. The 

 blotting -out of the familiar landscape is, in effect, to 

 transport one to unfamiliar regions, and to-day the fog 

 was so dense, and the range of vision so limited, it was 

 like standing on a rock in mid-ocean. Still, a fog has 

 its merits. It lends a pleasing sense of distance to the 

 sounds heard, and muffling, as it seems, the lower tones, 

 give the higher ones an unfamiliar character. I could 

 hear few of the notes of distant song-birds, and recog- 

 nized none of them. The scream of an impatient buz- 

 zard was unlike any sound I have ever heard, and only 

 the fact of the hawk swooping within sight gave me 

 opportunity of ever knowing whence came the weird 

 sounds it uttered. Stranger than all sounded the deep- 



