Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1860-11-29
II rit,en for HE Green Mountain Freeman.
Out in the Woods.

During the Indian summer days of the
LAST few weeks, We have often turned our
footsteps from busy indoor life, with ledger
md pea, and sought to while away the sun.
shine in renewal Of scenes Of Old Lang
Syno. We SEQ the Farmer busy with his
-'' crow-bar,' his plough, and stone.Joat,"
farming over The soil fer next years seed
.@i,a,, and digging, and blasting, and laying
Shc b0uIders into s'ono-walI. We presume
he does not think Of pleasure. More than
A&if the world look upon the smiles Of In
olian sammcr as but time to finish the corn
GeId, or potatoe patch, or bank up the house
Eor winter This VIC co3fess is praisewor-
shy and quite necessary phase Of the charm
ing s;&scn, bat ire are not blessed with po-
tatoo patch nor cora-Gcld, nor house to bank,
enough We have patches Of white paper, on
demand banked up against January 1st and
April, too numerous to mention.
Although we are rot blessed with road
FAX, uor q plough, We cannot think Of stop
pm ID doors altogether, and, to be sure, we
have no pleasure in the wicked sports of
shooting at q stray, scared partridge, chip
sing Or rcd squirrel, whose hal%-illed bur5w
Of nuts al d Legs, stray kernels of corn and
,oouckwheat would be left to sprout in the
spring, time, if VIC should bring him down, or
EoSe him over = and then the poor widows
suffering and cold through the winter, left
80 mourn her bereavement. No, VIC never
could get our bump Of destructiyeness up to
ahe sticking point so near the smell of pow
der, and SO We don't 60 to the woods to
crafty propensity for protecting the hem
lock bars and beech-nuts But We 20 quiet.
~ away to the woods-steal softly along the
sustling leaves, and hear the drop of nut,
and browse Of henlock bur, and sit down be-
e,eath the leahess branches just where the low
and sinking sun at two P. NJ will slant his
warm beams across our hiding. Here, amid
the &ree', halt asleep and dreaming, for we
lever mar the beauty CT woodland books BY
carrying the sketches Of human pen with us
hover mingle even the juicy periods and
luscious sentences Of Irving or Addison with
that sweet consonance oil sounds which nature
gives forth; here we watch the little flicker
ing cloud grow SIR tlIcr AMI disappear, and
80 rye watch our litc.clouds come On and fit
away Tor We give them no thought and no
v0por,
.j@o the other day, more than half sleep.
ja@ aul The sargijng Of little autumn
l;s4.-t clicked up with fallen leaves and
weeds, which had Iuxutianlly o'oyhuug it,
1ao >jore during sQMmes, shading it as if tc
tco1 The red hot sun FROM drinking the aat
1roD 81 its liie-bIood, but now fallen under
the stroke Of the frost 10 drown;ng in the
eoie same stream it protcctod-wc sat watch
inS chip-monk," ever and amen over and
lnder the loose leaves, now up on stick OF
noi, on hinder parts, with lull kernel OIL
beech-nut hastily Fecling off the SHE'LL unit
IA ready for his cupboard, it was stowec
away in his Cheek" and down he went
aca& over heels, in the leaves for another
Pretty soon along came fellow squirrel, {
9ew steps away, and after him no went, hul
&ah squirrels, till clinching in close hug
they tumbIed over the knoll down into the
hollow, and down into the leaves together
.sSccn, however, they emerged, tails over their
backs, like truant boys, Tor fear of discovery
scudding one one way, and the other TIT
other, after their beech. nuts again.
Late in the afternoon 1 watched few
dark clouds come up stealthily in the West
cncircling round the horizon, ard making
threatS upon my future rambles So bad
formal farewell to the fearing partridge
high.cIimbitg red squirrel, and industriou
,hip.nluk, half believing that should no
troublc their hauntS again till spring-time.-
Not song-bird remained. The last one hal
sealed its pipe and taken its fight. On
bleak old pine, shorn Of life and foliage, o.
a 0eighborng hill, a Glow called long an
loud, and VIC could not but think that thcs
9ocr, improvident creaturos-croatcd not j
vain would call long in vain for their dali
4scrael before the threatening clouds wou
again give place to seed.time. These soul
less creatures, if no instinct be theirs, are t
0e piticd; but those busy little fellows
WhisAing about
- just ere the Frost begins to pave old Winters way
gadustrouSIy gathering a suficiency dee
Al