have mown the grass and stripped the trees, so 

 that, from a bluff along the creek, the glistening 

 Cohansey can be traced down miles of its course, 

 and through the parted curtains, wide vistas of 

 meadow and farm that were entirely hidden by 

 the green foliage lie open like a map. 



This is persimmon-time. Since most of the 

 leaves have fallen, there is no trouble in finding 

 the persimmon-trees. They are sprinkled about 

 the woods, along the fences and highways, as 



" Ripe and rimy with November's frosts." 



naked as the other trees, but conspicuous among 

 them all because of their round, dark-red fruit. 

 What a season of fruit ours is ! Opening down 

 in the grass with the wild strawberries of May, 

 and continuing without break or stint, to close 

 high in the trees with the persimmon, ripe and 

 rimy with November's frosts ! The persimmon 



[5] 



