Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-08-03
uRuat,

August, notwithstanding its robust name, is
a sort of habby, watering place month. 1t is
| iy-time, it is dog days time, it is filtration
time. 1t is a period of general listlessness
and indecision. 1t is said to be very difficult
in August to make up the mind either to ac-
cept or reject him. And, worse still, it is apt
to be the latter part of the month before he
makes up his mind to propose. Indeed, to
speak of making up the mind at all in Au-
gust is nearly absurd, for there is no mind to
make up. Nature and people-if the expires.
sion may be permitted-feel seedy. Inland
1t Is muggy, on the sea coast it is foggy. In
the cities all the taste has gone out of life ;
even in the hills every one is languid and dis.
posed to lounge on piazzas and watch things
simmer. The world, like the garden, owns it.
self played out. The days are growing short
again, and it might be expected that the in.
temperate heat of July would abate, but the
heat continues, although it is not the clear
sun-heat of the lusty growing season. but
sort of overhead steaming up from the earth
1t is the month to get away from everything,
even from ones self. Even the churches
slow down.
Yet there are good things about August.
The schools are shut up, the everlasting pro-
cess Of education is eased of, and a chance is
given for the mind to stretch itself and grow
a little naturally. People forget that the
mind needs those periods of semi-doze in
which to ripen. We understand all about the
convolutions and the gray matter of the brain,
and know just where the memory cells are,
and where lie the coils of imagination and
ideslity, can put our finger on the spot that,
If excited, makes man willing to pay his
debts, and on the spot where exists the i'm
pulse to forgive our debtors if our creditors
Will forgive us but no one can tell how it is
that if thought is dropped into the brain
overnight, and left to simmer there, and, in
deed, remains for time wholly unheeded, it
VIII be found, when again called up, to have
blossomed into Sermon or an essay, or a
magazine paper worth ten dollars page
know clergyman who is obliged to set his
sermon overnight in this way exactly like
batch of bread, or it will not rise in the morn.
ing. The idea seems to be yeast, and that
furnished, the brain will go on unconsciously,
and work out the rest itself The trouble
with good many sermons and essays is that
they don't have any yeast in them Perhaps
August, which seems so stupid, is the yeast
month of the year, and perhaps this is the
reason that so many authors find September
the most fruitful month of the year
August is also lawyers vacation and their
clients have rest, and an opportunity to set
tie up their differences in an amicable way.
When the lawyers quit the ship it is a sign
that everybody else ought to go-to be of to
the Rockies, to the North woods, to Norway,
to the rocks by the sounding sea, if there is by
that time rock anywhere on our thousands
of miles of coast that has not young lady
sitting on it, with spread parasol and novel
IN her hand, and a still more interesting work
OF nature and art at her feet talking to her
languidly about friendship, and how you can
know if two people are suited to each other,
don't you know. 1t is the harvest month of
the novelist, for then if ever one wants a novel
to put in the pocket in the woods, or to car
ry down to the beach, or to leave lying round
with the split zephyr. People will buy novels
in August if they cannot borrow them, and if
they are in cheap editions. II is a nice holi.
day, August just because it has no vitality in
it. Pity it cannot be more of holiday to
more people. For the shops ought to shut,
and the banks and the life insurance men
ought to go of into the wilderness with the
lghtning-rod men, and the canvasser ought to
cease from canvassing, and the weary be at
rest 1t would be good thing if the politi-
clans would clam bake and barbecue, and make
no speeches; they wouldn't make any if the
speeches were not reported 1t might be a
good thing if all the newspapers would sus-
pend Then the world would have nothing
to talk about, and perhaps would reposefully
grow in grace and sanity Charles Dudley
Warner in Hdrper's Magazine for August.