The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1898-11-14
Autumn and the Poets.


Most OF the poets are men aud WO-
men who are subject to liver complaint
Otherwise we should hear less talk about
the sad season of the year. No doubt
the poets are sad. The whiring and
falling leaves affect their nerves, and
the red and yellow foliage of autumn
turns their attention to the tomb. There
is a long procession of these worthless in
English literature who have tried to
inject their jaundice into the fall sea-
son. and, wonderful to relate, their
efforts have been accepted and Endorsed
by the general public, which, so far
as appreciation goes, doesn't know one
season from another
Let us have revision OF this grave
yard chatter about the autumn months
We need not go to the other extreme
and say that the fall season is giddy
and gay. There is the east wind, which
has a habit of bedraggling the skirts
Of autumn with mist and rain; this
wind may not be gay, but it is certain
ly not sad. And there are nips of
frost, too, that cannot be described as
sad or even serene. Nevertheless, some
Old buck Cor he may have been u young
one) suffering from malaria, or wrest-
ling with a torpid liver. took occasion
when our vernacUlar was in the sappy
stage, to shed his personal gloom over
the autumn months. His rhyme had
a snap to it, his meter a swing; forth
with all the rising and emulous bards
followed his example, and autumn was
labeled as well as lbeled.
The truth is, the season is the cheer
fullest OF the year. and nature, full, as
it were, of fermented sap. proceeds to
use as much red and yellow paint as
circus, only spreading it on with a
tender warmth and a more artistic
touch. If this be not a species of gay
ETY., what is it? Let any citizen follow
this example, even metaphorcally, and
it will not be said by his alarmed
friends that he was the victim Of gloom.
OLD Or. Tubbs, back in the fortes
$50 tradition says). ncve, had q patient
but no cupped and bled him, and adj
ministered heroic doses OF jalap and
calOmel to clean up his liver. If each
poet had had his DR.. Tubbs we should
have more inspiring reports OF the three
fall months. Whae are the facts as
they stand outside the poetry books?
Why. the first hard lr0sts are a signal
to the roses that they have only
few weeks in which to renew their
spring ardors, and beautifully do they
respond. Believe an amateur rosarian
when he tells YOU that, though the roses
are incompatible the spring and sum
mer through, if they have had a little
attention, the autumn blooms have a SUI
preme touch Of color and Yagnificence
that only the cool nights OF fail can pro-
ducc; and the buds linger in their half
blown state, as if to give you ample
leisure for enjoyment.
And if you viii look in the violet beds
YOU will see that here, too. is an inklng
of spring, hundreds Of blooms making
their way to light and air through the
long leaves Naturally, If YOU have
given the beds no nourishment during
the summer, the yiOlets will be iusignif-
cant; but, with attention, the old fash
Toned variety will outshine the Califor-
MIA and other varieties that are so high
" priced However. that is another
matter
But what completer satisfaction can
spring hold than these things-the roses
showing so brayely, the yiolets peeping
fall flowers making up, as it We're, a
chorus of beauty?
Poor Mr. Bryant, who wrote the piece
about the woodlands brown and sere,
and called October days the saddest of
the wear should have been given
tonic Of iron. wine and Quassia Still.
he was writing in q section where the
climate performs some wonderful freaks
winter in fall, Billiards in winter, and
sunstr0kcs in summer Much is to be
forgiven to man, even poet, who is
compeued to endure such extremes
Gloom is sure to be his portion
But here in Georgia the fall months
are full of good cheer, and nature her
self puts on her brightest colors. About
that time, along comes the farmer man
a-drinking of his cider. He brings his
bale Of cotton to market, and is made
happy by the fact that he doesn't have
To hire somebody 70 help him haul his
money home. 1t is a wonderful season.
The leaves may fall, and the nights may
be crisp. but we have spring and sum
mer compressed in a few weeks of the
most beautiful weather, when it is a JOY
TO tive and breathe,
It. is at such times that the flying
spiders set themselves adrift in theesoft
air and spin their threads of gossamer
in gIistening lines that float and sway
in the blue, drifting higher and higher
as if they would establish communica-
ton between this gross world and things
ethereal.