THROUGH LIBRARY WINDOWS a8j 



hints are more than emphatic that the tide of 

 the year is changing and the ebb of the hazy 

 days has already set in. 



O that someone could but catch and transfer 

 to a canvas of words the abounding glory of a 

 single October day ! That he could inweave its 

 purpling mists, its transforming sunlight, its 

 glints of color, its floral and woodsy aroma that 

 fairly tints the atmosphere, its sweet mono- 

 tones of soothing sounds, its rippled music of 

 slow-paced waters, the sleepy z-z-zing of lo- 

 custs, the throb of distant flails, the drowse of 

 laden and belated bees — all this and more into 

 a word-picture, and not all the concentrated 

 genius of poets and painters could compare 

 with it. No other month is so opulent in color, 

 so rich in brilliant contrasts, so superb in rare 

 mosaics fashioned from woodlands and moun- 

 tains and meadows and streams and skies. 



October is the time of "harvest home," fields 

 have ripened, orchards have yielded their gol- 

 den fruit, leaves are shredded, trees reveal their 

 graceful forms, the hazy atmosphere gauzily 

 wraps the enchanting landscape, outdoor work 

 is nearly done, and now are the days of serene 

 repose. The hill and valleys are touched with 

 a bloom as rare and exquisite as that which lies 

 lush on the grape; the dusky olive buckwheat 



