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NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Nov. 



chattering guttural additions, proceed from the 

 tall tree a few rods from you ; you cautiously 

 steal on tiptoe to the foot of the tree, but do not 

 see the animal, even after looking carefully on 

 every side. You know the little fellow is there, 

 for he could not possibly have got out of the tree 

 unless you had seen him. Now, if you go close 

 to the tree, and step quickly to the other side, you 

 will see him whisk suddenly to the opposite side 

 from you, where he is now closely hugging the 

 tree, and perfectly motionless ; your interest has 

 now become awakened, you are curious to see 

 more of him ; very well, you must retire a few 

 rods, and remain perfectly still. You had better 

 take a comfortable seat, for he will not move while 

 you are near the tree. Presently you see his head, 

 with its bright, lively eyes, slowly moving around 

 to the side where you are ; this is the first recon- 

 noitering movement. If you remain perfectly still, 

 he will soon take his position on a limb, where 

 jerking his tail and flaunting it in conscious secu- 

 rity, he gives vent to his satisfaction at your re- 

 moval in a series of chattering barks, which are 

 answered, perhaps, by other squirrels that you had 

 no thought wei'e in the neighborhood ; soon one 

 of them, with a challenging bark or chatter, chases 

 another, and shortly three or four of them are 

 scampering about, running through the fallen 

 leaves, and up and down the trees in high sport ; 

 presently one of them, in escaping from the others, 

 comes suddenly near you ; with a shrill whistle of 

 astonishment he scampers up the nearest tree, and 

 is soon as effectually concealed as all the others 

 were the instant he gave the alarm. You may as 

 well I'etire now, for you will see nothing more of 

 them ; as long as you remain near, they will not 

 budge a foot. 



AUTUMWAL SCENES. 



What a rich and attractive book might be writ- 

 ten by a person who has the genius, — it must be 

 almost a passion, — upon Autumnal Sigliis and 

 Sounds. How unlike the flush of Midsummer, the 

 new life and glow of May, or the grand march of 

 the Winter Months, would it be, in the scenes it 

 presents. And then in sounds, as well as sights, 

 how differently they strike the ear, — ah, the heart, 

 too. Now, they are full, but subdued ; uttered in 

 solemn cadences in the twilight, the shades of 

 evening, or hedge or forest aisles, — all unlike the 

 joyous notes of Spring, breaking from every throat 

 in the glorious sunlight, and from every bounding 

 creature that can lift its voice to Heaven ! What 

 surpassing Wisdom and Love is manifested in the 

 changing Seasons ! What a different class of sen- 

 sations, of hopes and delights, they bring to all 

 observing and reflecting minds — and how gently, 

 and confidently they lead us up to Him who ci'e- 

 ated and arranged them. 



With what unusual quiet and beauty these 

 sights and sounds have come upon us this season. 

 No untimely frost has fallen upon foliage or flower 

 to lay them low in their prime, and they have been 

 left to assume their varied hues by the gradual 

 process of ripening. In low places, where the 



roots of trees do not take deep root, they began 

 to put on their autumnal drapery early in Septem- 

 ber, and gave the hedge and copse a beautiful ap- 

 pearance at that early day. This process has been 

 going on until the highways and byways, and the 

 grand old forests, are beaming in a splendor of un- 

 rivalled hues. No wonder that the pott declares 

 that the "year grows splendid." What a gratifi- 

 cation it must be to the writer, to be able to ex- 

 press the thoughts given in this beautiful little 

 poem, on 



OCTOBER. 



Br LTDIA A. CALnWELL. 



The year grows splendid ! on the mountain steep 

 Now lingers long the warm and gorgeous light, 

 Dying by slow degrees into the deep 

 Delicious night. 



The final triumph of the perfect year, 



Rises the woods' magnificent array ; 

 Beyond, the purple mountain heights appear. 

 And slope away. 



The elm, with musical, slow motion, laves 



His long, lithe branches in the tender air ; 

 While from his top the gay Sordello waves 

 Her scarlet hair. 



Where Spring first hid her violets 'neath the fern, 



Where Summer's fingers oped, fold after fold. 

 The odorous, wild, red rose's heart, now burn 

 The leaves of gold. 



The loftiest hill — the lowliest flowering herb— 



The fairest fruit of season and of clime — 

 All wear alike the mood of the superb 

 Autumnal time. 



Now nature pours her last and noblest wine ! 



Like some Bacchante beside the singing streams. 

 Reclines the enchanted Day, rapt in divine 

 Impassioned dreams. 



But where the painted leaves are lalling fast, 

 Among the vales, beyond the farthest hill, 

 There sits a shadow — dim, and sad, and vast— 

 And lingers still. 



And still we hear a voice among the hills — 



A voice that mourns among the haunted woods. 

 And with the mystery of its sorrow fills 

 The solitudes. 



For while gay Autumn gilds the fruit and leaf. 



And doth her fairest festal garments wear, 

 Lo ! Time, all noiseless, in his mighty sheaf 

 Binds up the year. 



The mighty sheaf which never is unbound ! 



The Reaper whom our souls beseech in vain ! 

 The loved, lost years that never may be found. 

 Or loved again ! 



Singing. — The effect of music is powerful. In 

 a school it has a tendency to promote cheerfulness 

 and help discipline. It also furnishes a pleasant 

 relaxation from study. Wherever it has been fttith- 

 fully and systematically tried, with well qualified 

 instructors, it meets Avith genei-al commendation. 

 To unite in singing at the opening of a school, 

 seems to compose the mind and fit it for study ; 

 and to sing at the close of the school, when the 

 perplexities and duties of the day are over, tends 

 to allay all irritable feeling — to unite hearts — to 

 bring rays of sunshine to clouded countenances, 

 and make the associations of the school-room 

 pleasant and inviting. — Maine Teacher. 



