VIII, 



FIELD NOTES IN SEED TIME. 



These days of autumn when the earth is show- 

 ing signs of drowsiness, and is turning her cheek 

 farther and farther from the sun for a winter's nap, 

 are as incomparable as those of June. 



Now is the fruitage and fulfillment of what was 

 promised months ago, and the leaves in their dying 

 glory whisper to us their parting words as they 

 fall, " We have lived only to make the seed, in 

 which we shall breathe again." 



As I walk across-lots I am struck with the vari- 

 ous and ingenious methods the different plants 

 have adopted to scatter their seeds. Here is an 

 army of golden-rods and asters, milk-weeds and 

 epilobiums, holding aloft on their wand-like stems 

 millions of seeds, to which are attached balloons, 

 parachutes and wings, that the wind at the proper 

 time may carry them miles away. I wave one of 

 these wands, when, as if by magic, hundreds of the 



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