“  Do  not  be  foolish,  Mr.  Birch,”  she  said,  to'lng 
to  pull  her  dross  away  from  him.  "Get  up,  and 
If  you  have  anythlnir  rational  to  say  to  me,  1  will 
stay  and  listen,” 
■’  Vee.  yea.”  he  whlsperi^  hoarsely,  ‘‘  I  shall  be 
rational.  Only  do  not  leave  me." 
.She  again  sanlt  down  wenrtly  upon  the  lounge 
and  looked  at  him  In  expectant  sllcnco. 
“Miss  Bdilh,”  pleaded  he  In  the  same  hoarse, 
pa!%ilonate  undertone,  “  have  pity  on  me  and  do 
not  despise  roe.  l  love  you.  f)h— if  you  would 
but  allow  mo  to  die  for  you,  I  should  be  the  hap¬ 
piest  of  men.” 
Again  he  shuddered  atid  stood  long  gay.Ing  at 
her  with  a  muto,  pitiful  appeal,  \  tear  stole  Into 
Kdlth’s  eye  and  trickled  down  over  her  cheek. 
•'Ah,  .Mr.  Birch," glie  munnured,  while  a  sigh 
shook  hor  bo«f)m,  “I  am  sorry  very  sorry  that 
tills  mlafortune  has  happened  to  you.  Voij  have 
deserved  a  better  fate  thnii  to  love  me— to  love  a 
woman  who  can  never  give  you  anything  in  re- 
l  uru  for  what  you  give  her.” 
••.Never?"  he  repeatod,  mournfully,  “ never?" 
••  No,  never !  You  have  been  a  good  friend  to 
me.  and  iis  such  1  value  you  highly,  and  1  had 
hoped  that  you  would  always  remain  so.  But  1 
see  llial  It  <-annot  be.  It  will  iiorhaiw  be  best  for 
yotj  henoefort  li  not  to  see  me,  at  least  not  iiutll— 
pardon  the  oxpj-esslon— you  have  outlived  this 
generous  folly 
I  shelling  your  hay  and  buck'wheat  cakes  and  prop¬ 
erly  storing  ’em  away  In  the  lort. 
Now  fatten  your  vegetables  and  store  your 
poultry  away  in  a  warm,  dry  cellar,  free  from 
frost. 
E.arly  Kose  potatoes,  crossed  with  Hartford  Pro¬ 
lific,  fatt,en  hi'st  and  make  tho  most  savory  pie. 
DeeemOer.— This  Is  the  month  of  fun  and  blled 
elder,  and  Christmas  and  mince  pies  and  com 
Hhuoklngs  and  slcm  A  McCormick  reaper  la  a 
nice  thing  to  shuck  corn  with.  I  have  frequently 
started  for  home  with  m.v  reaper  on  toy  back, 
went  out  to  the  crib  and  shucked  several  hundred 
bushels  iMiforc  hreaktasi. 
I/)ok  out  for  some  snow  this  month.  Potato 
lives  In  all  Instances  e.xecpt  one.  This  Is  In  the  case 
of  Aunt  AhELAiDK,  tho  deceased  wife’s  sister,  who 
finally,  lb  Well  punished  by  an  ni-assorted  mar¬ 
riage  with  an  a/lventurer.  Though  simple  In  Its 
details  and  devoid  of  any  pretence  to  plot,  the 
story  is  wiiljHl  so  sweetly  told  that  the  Interest  of 
the  render  is  maintained  to  the  end.  It  Is  one  of 
those  books  which  leaves  nothing  but  good  Im¬ 
pressions  upon  the  mind. 
FOEGIVENESS 
I*IKK  of  flpring’, 
Sweet  words  arc  borne  from  darkness  and  dospalr. 
And  waft  new  fraifrancc  thronfrh  tho  sunny  air ; 
Glad  spirits  8iD(f. 
Ah!  yewhofooKht. 
And  nobly  fouirht  ae  warriors  fit  to  die. 
Shall  ye  the  i>ower  of  brotherhood  defy. 
By  deoith  untaiiKbt  f 
Tlie  rivht  aud  wrouK 
Are  bnried  with  the  dust  of  those  who  sleep 
In  the  warm  stillnOHs  uf  earth’s  bosom  deep. 
And  lif<>  1m  alrouff. 
Kl'rKivc !  Kofvlvc ! 
Thus  ehurs  the  sunlitrht  us  it  leently  kIWch 
Into  oaoh  burdened  heart  that  doubt  dh  ides  - 
Porirtvo  and  live 
Por>rivo!  roiyivc! 
Oh  I  ye  to  whom  Uis  pltyiuir  Heaven  had  deitmed 
Man’s  sovonugn  rlKhta  by  tyrant  power  disdained,  i 
Forgive  and  live ! 
O  love  divmc ! 
Arise,  nrise,  that  souls  may  worship  thee ; 
That  souls  inuy  glorify  thy  name,  aud  see 
Their  stremrih  in  thine 
Men,  ye  .are  hlmoi ! 
But  strife  will  makn  ye  brutes,  unfit  to  sway 
The  kingdom  ol  the  futniM,  fonned  to-day 
The  least  of  Uitnits  ! 
Fternal  God ! 
Fill  these  great  hearts  with  Thine  eternity, 
I.et  union  strew  with  flowers  of  liberty 
The  aoliiuit  sod  ! 
p-aVTs  ot  Mortnl  be 
PmiicI  f  By  ttir.r.IAjH  KNOX.  Boston;  lyOe  A 
Shepard.  >ew  \ork;  Ciiurles  ’P.  DlllinKham. 
Tub  Rombar  poem  of  Wilmam  Knox  was  never 
before  tso  beautifully  droased.  Betwee.n  the  taste¬ 
ful  covers  are  leaves  of  satin  tin  tod  paper,  upon 
one  side  only  of  each  of  which  Is  a  stun/.a  of  the. 
poem  and  an  exquUill.e  wootl  cut,  engravod  by 
John  A sprkw  a  tso.t  after  designs  by  .Miss  L.  B. 
Ui'Mi'BUKv.  Thu  elegant  workmanslilp  and  artis¬ 
tic  skill  dhsplayed  at  every  sUge  of  Its  preparation, 
docs  credit  to  all  whose  taste  .and  labor  were  em¬ 
ployed  In  its  production.  It  will  be  an  acceptable 
holiday  present  to  anj-  person  of  rerlnement  and 
a  source  of  much  future  enjoymeui. 
COMING  EVENTS, 
And  now,  you  know,  you  will 
ne<.!d  mo  no  more.  You  have  made  u  splendid 
reputation,  and  If  you  choose  to  avail  your.sell 
ol  It,  your  fortune  l.salreiidy  made.  J  shall  always 
rejoice  to  lipnr  of  your  .success,  and— and  If  you 
should  ever  need  a  .o  /c./d,  you  must  come  to  no 
one  but  me.  1  know  thal  those  are  feeble  words, 
Mr.  nirch,  and  it  they  Hcem  cold  lo  you.  you  must 
pardon  me.  I  can  say  nothing  more." 
'riiey  were  Indeed  feeble  words,  although  most, 
cordially  spoken.  He  tried  to  weigh  them,  to 
measure  their  meaning,  but  his  mind  w.ah  a.s  If 
henumbed  and  ntlorly  incapable  of  thought.  He 
w.alkcd  across  tile  Iloor,  perhaps  only  to  do  some- 
thlng,  not  feeling  where  he  trod,  but  still  with 
nil  absurd  sensation  that  be  w.as  Wkliig  immoder¬ 
ately  long  slops.  Then  he  stopped  abruptly, 
wrung  hts  hands,  and  ga/.e<l  at  Kdlllb  And  snd- 
denly,  like  a  Hash  In  a  vacuum,  the  thought  shot 
through  hlsbi-aln  that  he  had  seen  this  very  scene 
somewhere-  -In  a  dream,  In  a  remote  childhood, 
In  a  previous  existence,  he  did  not  know  when  or 
wliere.  It  mjcmcd  strangely  familiar,  and  in  the  , 
next  instont  strangely  tneuulnglcss  and  unreal. 
Tlic  walls,  the  Iloor— everytiiing— began  to  move, 
to  whirl  about  him;  he  Htruck  his  h.ands  .against 
his  forehead  and  sank  down  Into ,. 'lamask-cov- 
erod  p.asy-chalr.  With  a  faltil  cry  ot  aiarm,  Kdlth 
sprang  up,  sol/.cd  a  Ixittlo  of  cologne  which  hap¬ 
pened  to  be  wlibln  rcucli  and  knelt  down  at  his 
side.  .She  put  her  arm  around  his  nock  and  raised 
his  head. 
“Mr.  Birch,  dear  .Mr.  Birch 
The  publishers  of  Tho  .Atlantic  Monthly  liave 
Issued  their  annual  prospectus.  The  magazine  Is 
now  entering  on  its  twentieth  year,  and  while 
some  of  the  writers  who  gave  lu.sU'rto  Its  earlier 
pages  have  pas.sed  away  or  ceaaed  to  write,  It 
still  counij*  among  ius  contributors  four  of  the 
greatest  names  la  American  literature,  which 
have  been  Identified  with  It  from  the  first  volume. 
lAjngleiiow,  Whittier,  Holmes  aiid  howell  will  all 
contrlbuta  during  the  next  year,  Mr.  l-ongfellow 
promising  an  unusual  number  or  poetas.  e.  c. 
Stodnoan,  T.  B.  Aldrich  and  other  well-known  .At¬ 
lantic  poets  will  also  continue  to  write.  Mr.  .Al¬ 
drich  is  to  contribute  a  story  in  tliree  parts,  the 
name  of  which  Is  not  announced.  Mr,  Howells, 
whose  farce,  “The  Parlor  Car."  mode  oniu.  u  hit’ 
UNBELIEF, 
The  follow  lag,  from  the  pages  of  the  speiUalor, 
summarizes  a  strong  address  of  Bishop  Kiiiot’, 
eoDcerning  unbelief  In  the  old  Bible :— The  Bishop 
of  Gloucester  and  Bristol  has  been  delivering, 
this  week,  a  senes  or  I  bought  nil  adtires-scs  on  the 
prevalent  Unbelief  of  the  day,  in  whlali  ho  de¬ 
scribes  that  uhbellpf  as  ruther  a  vague  and  drift¬ 
ing  r,endoDcy  than  .a  fixed  stuK^of  mind;  nay, 
the  unbelievers,  he  siiyis  have  so  rompletoly  suc¬ 
ceeded  In  suspending  their  judgment  that  they 
hardly  believe  even  In  Ihelr  own  unbelief.  He 
traces  thl-s  condition  or  things  chieily  to  three 
eiiusos— to  rile  impresMon  produced  by  the  his¬ 
torical  erltlclsm  ot  modern  times,  of  the  vast  un¬ 
certainly  attending  all  am  lent  history,  and  es¬ 
pecially  all  history  Involving  .Htorles  of  miracles ; 
to  the  advance  ot  sclenUtlc  uoUons  which  seem  to 
dlspeniso  with  the  cnvulvG  energy  of  God ;  and  to 
tho  now  Intensity  with  which  the  cnlgm.os  of  life, 
the  moral  and  metaphysical  dlfriculllcs  Involved 
In  iJie  origin  of  evil,  are  urge<l  upon  the  linaglna- 
llon  of  all  of  us.  •  •  •  •  For  our  own  parts, 
while  we  accept  whal  Bishop  Klllott  says  of  the 
pectcd  from  the  author  of  the  ••  (^ueen  ot  Hearts.” 
Mr.  Howells  will  also  furnish  sonib  cssiaya  ou  New 
England  Country  Life.  Murk  ’J'walu  will  he  a 
frequejii  contrlhutor  during  the  year,  and  may 
now  be  cousldered  one  of  the  reguhir  -Atlanuc 
staff.  »:h)irle.s  Fr.ancls  .Adams,  .Ir.,  is  to  write  a 
series  of  papers  on  Colonial  History,  and  (i,  p. 
Lathrop,  whoae  “Study  of  Hawthorne"  has  been 
so  warmly  <»mmpnded,  some  essays  ou  American 
authors.  All  readers  of  the  magazine  will  ixj  glad 
to  learn  that  Mrw.  Kemble's  ohapterKor  autobio¬ 
graphical  “  Gossip”  arc  to  run  through  the  gi-eater 
portion  of  the  year,  while  they  will  await  with 
Interest,  the  tiomtuenwnt  of  Henry  .tames,  Jr.’.s  se¬ 
rial,  whleli  will  he  concluded  In  an  early  num¬ 
ber.  fharloa  Hale,  l.iudy  our  Consul-General  U) 
Kgypt-,  will  eonirtbiitea  few  brief  papers  on  Egyp¬ 
tian  Life. 
Following  the  plan  or  Mr..Tohn  Klske's  aitlcle 
on  “A  Llbrart.an's  AVork,”  in  a  re<’ent  number,  the 
Atlantic  will  now  have  a  valuable  series  of  papers 
on  various  profeailons  and  emploj'ments  by  com¬ 
petent  Writers,  and  these  will  afford  glimpses  of 
the  Work  of  a  School  .sapprlntendeni,  a  New  En¬ 
gland  Farmer,  a  Western  Farmer,  a  Man;iglng 
i'klltor,  a  Congressman,  n  .Manufacturer,  etc.,  etc. 
The  publishers  announce  two  new  and  unique 
features  for  the  coming  year,  that  are  likely  to 
prove  e.Ttreraely  popular.  Cue  of  these  will  be 
coDirihuUons  to  eaeli  number  ot  original  music 
by  such  able  composers  as  .John  K.  Paine,  George 
I..  Osgood,  .lullus  Elchberg,  Dudley  Buck  and 
Frauds  Boott,  with  words  by  some  of  the  most 
distinguished  AtJauMe  iKiets.  The  other  Is  a  new 
deparunenl  to  bo  called  “  The  Contributor’s 
I,”  she  cried,  In  a 
friglitened  whisper,  "for  God’s  sake,  come  to 
yourself!  o  gcmI,  what  have  I  done?” 
J’hc  blow  the  eau-de-cologne  Into  his  fnw  and, 
as  he  langiiKIlT  opened  Ids  eyes,  he  felt  the  touch 
of  her  warm  Imud  iiixm  his  cheek  a nd  his  fore¬ 
head. 
’‘Thank  heaven he  la  better,"  she  murmured, 
still  continuing  to  bathe  his  temples.  “How  do 
you  feel  now,  Air.  Birch?”  she  added,  In  a  tone  of 
anxious  Inquiry. 
“Thank  you;  it  was  .an  unpardonable,  weak- 
nc.ss,"  he  muttered,  without  changing  his  atU- 
I  iide.  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  me.  I  shaU 
soon  bo  well.'* 
M  was  so  swet’l  to  be  conscious  or  her  gentle 
ministry,  that  It  reriulrod  a  great  effort,  an  cllorl 
of  conscience,  to  rouse  him  once  more,  as  his 
strength  returned. 
“Had  you  not  belter  stay?”  she  asked,  as  he 
rose  to  put  on  his  overcoat.  *'  I  will  laill  one  of 
the  servants  aud  have  him  show  you  a  room.  We 
will  say  to-morrow  morning  that  you  were  taken 
111  and  nobody  will  wonder." 
“  No,  no.”  he  roapondod,  energetically.  “  I  am 
perfectly  strong  now.”  But  he  still  had  to  lean 
on  a  chair  and  his  fane  was  doathli'  pale. 
“  Farewell,  .Miss  Edith,”  he  said  ;  aud  a  tender 
sadness  trembled  la  his  voice.  “  Farewell.  We 
.shall - probably - never  med.  again.” 
“Do  not  speak  so," she  answered. .seizing  his 
hand.  “  You  will  t-O'  t-o  forget  This  and  you  will 
still  be  great  and  happy.  And  when  fortune  shall 
again  smile  ujjoa  you,  and— aud— you  will  he  con- 
teat  to  he  my  friend,  tlicn  we  shall  see  each  other 
as  before,” 
“No,  no,"  he  broke  forth  with  a  .sudden  hoarse¬ 
ness.  ”  It  wlH  never  he.” 
lie  walked  toward  the  door  with  the  motions  of 
one  who  feels  death  In  his  limbs ;  then  stopped 
once  more  aud  bis  eyes  lingered  with  Inexpressi¬ 
ble  B.adno3a  on  tho  wonderful,  beloved  rorm  which 
stood  dimly  outlined  before  him  in  the  twilight. 
Then  Edith's  measure  or  misery,  loo,  seemed  full. 
With  the  dlviue  heedlessness  wlilch  belongs  to 
ber  sex,  she  ruabed  up  toward  him  and  remem- 
herlng  only  that  he  was  weak  .and  unhappy  and 
that  he  siUIored  for  her  sake,  she  took  his  face 
between  her  hands  and  kissed  him.  He  was  too 
generonaa  man  to  mlslnUTpret  the  act;  so  he 
whispered  but  once  more,  “Farewell.”  and  has¬ 
tened  away.— fTo  be  contlnued- 
MAXIMS  OF  KOCKEFOUCAULD 
Veuv  few  people  know  how  to  grow  old. 
He  who  lives  vMthout  folly  Is  not  so  wise  a.s  he 
thinks. 
Nobody  Is  ever  so  happy  or  so  unhappy  a,s  he 
Imagines. 
It  requires  greater  virtue  to  sustain  good 
fort  une  than  liad. 
There  Is  no  man  clever  enough  to  know  all  the 
evil  which  he  does. 
Gur  paaslons  are  the  only  orators  who  are 
certain  to  persuade  ii.s. 
'The  more  one  loves  one’s  mistress,  t.he  nearer 
one  is  to  hating  her. 
and  eusUy-bellPvlug  age.  it  seems  to  us  that  his¬ 
torical  criticism  makes  an  unanswerable  case 
against  the  habit  of  assigning  anything  like  very 
high  authority  as  to  detail  to  such  histories  us 
the  earlier  narratives  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
that  no  one  can  reasonably  believe  in  any  very 
high  authority  for  thou  except  on  some  such 
ground  as  infallibility  of  the  Church,  whose  ca¬ 
nonical  .Scriptures  they  foi  m.  But  as  we  cannot 
see  any  proof  of  such  InfaUiblllty  and,  indeed,  find 
In  the  Old  Te^itamont  histories  much  which  Is 
quite  inconsistent  with  U,  we  should  say  that,  on 
the  whole,  the  kind  of  hesitation  which  historical 
eiltlclsm  has  taught  us  In  accepting  the  details  of 
Old  'J'estament  history— especially  the  early  his¬ 
tory— Is  well  justified. 
Not  tlie  loss  we  .should  maintain  that  the  coher¬ 
ent  belief  of  the  prophets  aud  hl.siorlan.s  in  the 
divine  purpose  which  formed  Israel  Into  a  distinct 
people  and  molded  it  for  a  spemal  function  In  the 
life  of  the  world— a  belief  which  shines  through 
all  the  early  traditions,  the  early  records,  and  the 
early  poems  of  tho  people  as  clearly  as  clirough 
its  latest  prophecies— is  good  and  slriktag  evi¬ 
dence  that  they  were  a  people  chosen  by  God  to 
understand  Ills  character,  and  declare  It  to  the 
rest  of  the  eariii ;  and  that  their  national  charac¬ 
ter  liad  been  formed— if  utM.  exactly  by  the  expe¬ 
rience  described,  yet  by  experience  more  or  loss 
closely  resembling  It  In  the  confidence  It  had 
given  them  In  tne  mighty  hand  and  outotretched 
arm  of  Jehovah — for  the  very  purpose  for  which 
It  was  ulumately  used  by  tho  Dhine  power.  It  is 
quite  one  thing  to  8.ay  that  all  these  curious  old 
books,  full  of  the  evidence  of  human  imperfection, 
not  only  In  the  subjects  treated  but  Ln  tho  per¬ 
sons  who  treated  them,  are  to  be  Implicitly  tru.st- 
ed  as  accurate  records,  (hough  they  neither  claim 
inspiration  for  themselves  nor  sliow  any  trace  of 
completeness  and  cxceptloual  accuracy,  and  iiulte 
RECENT  LITERATURE, 
Bmks  for  IJolUiUiy  Presenif. 
IHtIhh  Too  F>u*t.  By  Wju-iam  T.  Adams  (“  ou- 
ycr  <)pilc  )  Boston  :  Loe  A  Sliupurd.  Now  York : 
t  liarles  T.  DiUingbam. 
The  miseries  of  Jiving  beyond  one’s  means  are 
depicted  in  this  story  In  snieh  n  way  as  to  make 
them  shunned  by  every  honest  man  or  woman. 
The  history  of  a  young  man  who  obtains  it.  posl- 
Uon  as  paying  toller  in  a  laige  city  bank,  marries 
a  frivolous,  extra  v:igant  wife,  runs  In  debt,  helps 
himself  out  with  the  hank-funds  Ini  rusu'd  to  him, 
speciilates  to  retrieve  his  fortunes,  loses  more 
money,  and  finally  flees  to  Europe  an  exile,  a  dt*- 
fauJter  and  a  criminal,  Is  worked  Into  a  story  of 
continued  intcrcPL  Like  a  majority  of  erimlilals, 
ho  was  not  all  bad,  but  had  many  good  qualities. 
UnfoiTunately  for  the  probability  of  the  afialr, 
however,  a  rich  old  aunt  dies  on  the  very  day  he 
absconds  and.  wlthout  hls  knowledge,  he  becomes 
a  wealtliy  man.  His  defalcation  is  made  good 
from  Ids  own  funds,  he  Is  saved  from  public  dls- 
graxse,  his  wife  subsequently  turns  out  to  have 
been  an  undeveloped  angel,  and  everything  comes 
right  In  the  end.  The  author  apologizes  for 
tills,  by  saj’lng  that  the  hero's  •'  career  ought  to 
have  ended  In  the  state  I’rlson;  but  his  (the  au¬ 
thor’s)  work  Is  a  story.” 
Nelly  Kennard's  Kinedwm.  By  Ama.n'UA  M. 
Doi’UtJks.  Buston  ;  iftje  x  sfhepard. 
It  Is  true  that  step-mothers  arc.  In  many  In¬ 
stances,  large!)' responsible  for  neglect  of  chlKren 
of  their  husbands.  It  Is  also  true  that  the  natural 
appeal  made  by  an  orphaned  child  directly  to  the 
heart  of  a  good  woman  ts  never  unheeded.  In 
this  case  the  heroine  marries  Into  tho  family 
where  she  encounters  not  only  two  strange  chil¬ 
dren  hut  a  mot  uer-ln-law  and  a  sister  of  the  dead 
wife  as  Integral  parts  of  her  new  family.  Her 
trials  and  tribulations  from  all  sources  are  both 
numerous  and  hard ;  but  her  angelic  nature  over¬ 
comes  all  obstacles  to  the  eventual  enjoyment  of 
the  love  aud  respect  of  her  new  unfriendly  rela- 
BOOKS  RECEIVED 
From  A.  S.  Barkks  &  Co.,  New  York  : 
The  History  of  liberty.  A  papej  read  before 
the  New  York  Historical  Socletj'  by  John  F. 
Aiken.  (Cloth— pp.  Ida,  Price  $i.) 
Sheudon  <t  Co.,  New  York : 
A  Point  ot  Honor,  by  Airs.  Annie  Edwards. 
(Cloth ;  1 2mo.— pp.  325.  Price  $  l  .50.) 
E.  Steigkr,  New  York : 
Schcdler’s  .Map  of  Turkey  and  Greece. 
T.  B.  Peterson  &  Brothers,  Phlla.,  Pa. ; 
Cortnne,  by  De  .Stael.  (Paper-pp,  170.  Price 
T5  CIS.) 
Lee  &  Shefaki),  Boston : 
The  Reading  Club— No.  4— by  Geo.  M.  Baker. 
(Price  50  eta.)  .Snip  and  Whip,  and  some 
other  Books,  by  Elizabeth  A.  DavLs.  (Illus¬ 
trated.  Cloth— pp.  171,  Price  $1.25.)  Y'oung 
America— Second  Serle.s;  Vine  and  Olive,  or 
A'oung  America  in  Sradn  and  PortugaL  by 
W.  T.  Adams  ('•  Oliver  Optic”).  (Cloth;  10 
mo.— pp.  4l’Z.  Price,  $1.50.)  The  Y'oung  Trail 
Hunters,  or  The  Wild  Riders  of  the  Plains, 
by  S,  W.  Cozzens.  {Illustrated.  Cloth;  12 
mo.— pp.  235.  Price  $1 ,60.; 
Maoazinks  for  Decembku: 
American  Naturalist,  LlpplncotFs. 
WHAT  I  ENOW  ABOUT  FARMING 
yovioiUier. — The  beautiful,  frolicsome  grasshop¬ 
pers  have  now  crawled  Into  their  holes  lor  winter. 
No  more  will  we  hear  them  singing  on  the  fences 
or  In  the  verdant  trees.  Not  much  any  more.  The 
bullfrog's  melodious  voice  Is  hushed  and  the  mud 
turtle  dove  has  hid  lierself  In  the  depths  of  the 
green  ivaU;rs. 
Work  ou  tlie  farm  now  will  not  be  so  hcaiy  as 
some  other  months.  Still,  you  can  put  In  time 
