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nourishment, and the wind of Autumn bring low the 
withered foliage which is now so thick and verdant. 
This is the time when field-paths are especially at¬ 
tractive. Ere yet the scythe and the reaping-hook 
hâve laid prostrate one blade of grass or corn, 
“ I love to walk the fields — they are to me 
A legacy no evil can destroy.” 
In Spring the violets tempt us to the lanes and copses; 
in Summer’s heat the shade of the woods allures us ; 
whose pomp in Autumn again wins us to their retreats ; 
but in June, particularly in the early part of it, we 
choose the sunny meadows for our rambles, where 
The housing bee on restless wing 
Hums on its flower besprinkled way, 
And Nature’s untaught warblers sing, 
Elate of heart, on every spray. 
Delta. 
Our old favorites, the buttercup and daisy, présent 
a spangled show of gold and silver, and with a host of 
other blossoms, spread a rich mosaic-work beneath our 
feet. 
