A LESSON OF THE AUTUMN DAYS. 
105 
We stand, on a dull day in late October, beneath an apple tree, 
from which the brown leaves are mostly fallen, but we are sur¬ 
prised to see how the rain has left them bright and shining, and 
with their little red and white stems lying criss-cross make 
such a pretty carpet! 
Perhaps it is in a Pennsylvania cornfield we remember. The 
corn has been harvested, but hundreds of golden pumpkins 
have been left to mellow in the September sun, real storehouses 
of warmth and sunshine ; or perhaps it is an apple orchard still 
green, in the neighboring town of Hooksett, and under the trees 
have been collected the piles of red and yellow apples, making 
a picture which we do not soon forget. 
At this season the lakes reflect the deep, clear blue of the 
sky, and grow bluer because of the white sand and pebbles and 
dark green pines on shore. 
If we go into the penetrating silence of the woods, we see the 
arches overhead shot through and through with rods of slanting, 
golden light, and even the rough bark of the tree trunks has 
caught the purple hue of the Indian summer haze, so subtle 
that it almost vanishes at second sight. The rocks are gray- 
green with the daintiest of mosses, and 
“ lichens mock 
The marks on a moth, and small ferns fit 
Their teeth to the polished block.” 
In the coming days the colors will not be so apparent as in 
the season just passed, but there will always be some winter 
bird, beautiful even in sober dress, or blossoming window plant, 
and the old farmer understood, when he said, “There is not a 
color made but what God has put it on my birds and flowers.” 
The russet oaks will shine in the morning light, and there will 
be a rose colored rift in the wall of cloud at sunset which the 
coldest snow and the grayest ice are bound to reflect, when, a 
few minutes before, all looked so unresponsive. 
Let us feel sure, then, that every day will hold some store of 
beauty for us, every object will glow with that color which is 
possible to it, and that we shall see more and more of that ra¬ 
diance, like unto April sunshine, which fills the lives of Zo and 
Mildred, who are two dear little children, living in the Golden A e. 
