IN SUMMER. 



of defiance, too, in his eyeless sockets, and a 

 ghost of resistance as he was lifted from a couch 

 that he had occupied for some three thousand 

 moons at least. The rattle of his disjointedness 

 was as harsh as the language that once he spake, 

 and while I thridded the woods and skirted, on 

 my way home, the resounding marshes, where 

 every frog most ominously croaked, every jostle 

 of the warrior's bones seemed to force a protest- 

 ing syllable between his rattling teeth. 



With all deference to the votaries of archae- 

 ology, skeleton-lifting by moonlight is, I claim, a 

 most uncanny pastime. 



i] 1 prefer a (Eaitntrn ife. 



Uz GAUNT was, in the writer's experience, 

 the most level-headed of farmers. He once re- 

 marked, " Town folks smile at my vim and way 

 of putting things, but I'd rather be next neigh- 

 bor to Natur' than to most of the town folks." 

 That remark impressed me many a year ago as 

 a nugget of pure wisdom, and now, when on the 

 shady side of forty, I still think it wiser than any 

 casual remark, learned essay, or eloquent oration 

 I have ever heard in town. 



It is a sad error to suppose that a rustic is 



