The age-herald., 1900-11-15
SKETCHES FROM
 EVERYDAY LIFE

Yesterday in Birmingham was a dusty nightmare, but in the country it was truly day of days. Whether it was predicted l by the weather man or whether it came in unannounced is immaterial. The only im- portant fact is that it came. Alas that it had to go!
 What is so rare as day in June?" asks poet, and the answer is.-a day in No- vember It is almost worth while swelter- ing through the long hot summer to be rewarded with such a day Not a cloud in the sky, a still cool air, a Warming sun shining in a joyous jovial way. Everything was perfect. There was not a care left in the world,-that is, if you were in the country
 Have you the blues? Are you cross and irritable? If so, quit work. take the first street ear and ride far as you can from the city Walk in the sun, fill your lungs with fresh air. It costs you nothing and will do them good. Sunshine is as fatal to mental disease germs as to germs of other diseases Just to look at the rich color of the sweet gum is a tonic to the nerves, and the gold of the hickory and the silver of the birch amid the deep green of the pines is a joy to be long remembered. All this and more is seen in passing. The woods in November are a panorama. They unroll before the eye as you walk briskly along, for the November air will not put up with the dreaming and the lettering of spring days. You must heel and toe the mark in November, and the time is a quick step
 In her cheeks were the roses of autumn in her eye was the sparkle of youth She walked along with shoulders we'll back her face lifted to the morning sun She had no fear for her complexion--how can roses grow without the sun light? She was not sun worshipper. She was not even think ing of 1t. Her thoughts were far away. She did not see the path that her feet so lightly trod. She simply lived and moved, never questioning the why or whither She was content with all things, herself in par ticular. Her gown and her boots fit her we'll Her hat on straight and tilted at the right angle. Her collar was a mar vel of whiteness. Her gloves were just right, neither too new nor too old. Every thing seemed well in her sight. If asked why she would not have known. It was merely the November air. It had been a long pull up the hill The load was heavy and was his heart. Be- sides, he was getting old. There had been a time when that hill seemed a very small potato to him. In those days an extra long breath at the foot was all he needed to brace him for the ascent. Some how recently he had lost interest in it. It did not seem to accomplish anything-those daily trips to the city and back again. And always before reaching home and supper there was that long pull up the hill.
 The other day he had rebelled against fate. With all the obstinacy of his race he had planted his four feet together and refused the hill. His master had beat him cruelty, and he had had to give in, all things must give in to that tyrant-man.
 Yesterday as he toiled up the hill he thought it over. His side was still sore where he had been beaten. His ten years of faithful service had not saved him a single lick. He was not philosopher enough to know that this the. way of the world. and his heart was heavy.
 His master had no soul. He was not es- pecially cruel; in fact was rather good sort of fellow in his way. But he had walked up the hill yesterday, and neither sky nor earth in all their November beauty had he seen. Something, however, in the weather must have affected him. for as he walked by his mule he compassionately leaned over to brush away fly that was buzzng between the mules hind legs As he did so the mule saw his chance and kicked him. His arm was broken. The mules heels, like his heart, were heavy.
 That hickory is looking very yellow" said the pine tree. T think it is ill.,
 Not at all," said another pine; fit is simply putting on airs. Yellow is a fashion able color this fall, and it Is adopting a fall style."
 These personal remarks were made in 8 loud tone, and were overheard by the nick ory.
 T see you are still green with envy" it said T wish you would get fall suit. I am sick of seeing you in the same old clothes.'
 Well, if I am not dude,'' said the pine, ''the poets say I can murmur.''
 Gossip rather" replied the hickory. T heard you just now making some uncompli- mentary remarks about the sweet gum on account of its mahogany color"
 Well I don't like to associate with trees of that color," said the pine Besides you know that you yourself tough"
 That is true, but it seems to me that I have heard some one speak of the tough ness of d lightwood knot" replied the nick ory.
 This remark was followed by silence, during which the pines tried to murmur.
 'It seems to me-" here broke in the birch, that am the whltest tree in the forest don't object, though, to a few pine trees for back ground; but that hickory and the sweet gum l really think ought to be removed."
 Ut won't be long," said the pine, ''be- fore their leaves are gone and yours also. However, l and my friends will that