DlUVOTm) TO AGKECUIiTUKE, HOJRTlCULa'UKE, AKTD KLNDHJSD A-RTS. 



NEW SERIES. 



Boston, October, ISvl. VOL. V.— NO. 10. 



R. P. KATOX & CO., PLRttsHERS, 



Office, 34 Merchants- Kow. 



MONTHLY. 



SIMON BROWN, } editors 

 S. FLETCHER, ( ^-ditors. 



OCTOBER PACTS AND FANCIES. 



" The yeiiow funs of Autuni» f-iU 

 Acr.iss the orchard and the wood; 



The slill air ecUoeg every call, 



The vine lies painted on the wall, 

 And all the maples drip with blood. 



The neighbors come ft'om far and near, 

 And gather on the broad barn floor; 

 To celebrate the riiK-ntd year. 

 And ftrip the husk from oft" the ear, 

 That turns to gold the farmer's store." 



liii'er>ik/e Magaeine, 



CTOBEU brings the frui- 

 tion of the harvests. 

 The smalL grains were 

 long ago secured. The 

 bay and Indian corn, the 

 apples, pears, potatoes, 

 and most of the vegeta- 

 bles for family use and 

 stock will be cared for by 

 the close of the month. 

 By this time rough winds 

 will blow. Dry leaves 

 will be heaped under the 

 walls, and rustle along in 

 the garden paths. In the 

 morning, grass will be crisp with frost, and 

 perhaps little pools in the road will have a 

 slight coating of ice. 



What a striking change between this and 

 the last of July ! Most of the birds that then 

 made the day cheerful with their music have 

 left us. The plaintive note of the bobolink, a 

 few of whom lingered with us until late in Sep- 

 tember, is heard no more. He is already in 

 his favorite fields of wild oats on the banks of 



the Delaware or Potomac, or in the rice fields 

 nearer the Gulf. The summer voices in the 

 meadows are dumb. The robin is still with 

 us, visiting the garden for a worm in the mel- 

 low soil, or coming in numbers to feed upon 

 the berries which hang in rich profusion upon 

 the branches of the Mountain- Ash trees. Un- 

 numbered crickets make the evening melodi- 

 ous, and the pretty little t-creech-owl loves to 

 sit at midnight on the garden fence, and hour 

 after hour pour forth his soft and tremulous 

 notes. How this beautiful little night-bird got 

 such a hideous title, we cannot imagine. His 

 notes are the very reverse of a "screech," be- 

 ing low, soft, quivering, and harmonious, as 

 the dulcet notes of the tlute. 



Many complaints are made of our climate, 

 which, upon the whole, may be as agreeable 

 as that of any other land. We are in- 

 clined to think it is. We certainly "have one 

 season, reaching from the last of Septem- 

 ber partly into November, which is probably 

 as productive of delicious physical sensa- 

 tions as any in the world. It is a season when, 

 in the early cool of the morning, we recognize 

 the first breath of Winter, which is yet afar 

 off, and our fevered frames welcome the invig- 

 orating atmosphere as the lips of travellers in 

 Sahara greet thankfully the longed for cup of 

 cold water. Bodily exertion is no longer 

 wearily oppressive ] upon the contrary, there 

 is an exhilaration in the air which will not suf- 

 fer us to remain quiet. As we walk past the 



