238 
SEPTEMBER DAYS 
Now that September has come, Joseph and I no- 
tice that our garden is ripening. It reminds me of 
an apple blossom that has unfolded and dropped 
its petals, that the fruit may form; and which 
finally has grown larger and riper, until it also falls 
to the ground. Many of our flowers’ petals have 
fallen, while their places are taken by brown seed- 
pods, varied in shape and eager to scatter their 
holdings over the ground. 
In cases where Joseph has not cut off the stalks 
to keep the plants from going to seed, the birds 
have found them out and are now having a high 
feast. Joseph has had to be lively himself to col- 
lect as many seeds as he wished to put by for drying 
and sowing. But, perhaps, because we give the 
birds this autumn festival, they will wish to return 
to us next year. 
To-day I was surprised to see Joseph with a 
large package of seeds, dropping them awkwardly 
and rather carelessly over the ground. This he was 
doing near the spot where the Shirley poppies had 
been so enchanting. I had already noticed that he 
and Timothy had been busy there working over the 
soil. 
“What are you sowing?” I asked. 
“Shirley poppies,” he answered. “You said you 
could never have too many of them.” 
“But before, you sowed them in the spring.” 
“We can have them earlier next year by putting 
in the seeds now,” Joseph replied. “Miss Wise- 
