Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-10-07
COUNTRY IN AUTUMN
SIGNS OF THE DYING YEAR ON
EVERY HAND.
Crops Are Being Harvested-Birds and
Small Animals Getting Ready
/. for Winter. :.

| Even the most hardened weather reviler
was forced to smile In the presence of yes
terday, a typical New Hampshire autumn
day. There was absolutely no fault which
could be found with 1T, unless, as a pessim-
ism remarked, 1t but lily prepared US for
| any other kind of weather which might
| follow It. To one who enjoys all kinds OF
| weather it was day to be enjoyed little
| more than most others.
It happened that had business In a coun-
| try town some fifteen miles from home, so,
| after an early breakfast / set out In
buggy, behind big gray horse. My road
| lay along mountain side, whence had
| clear view to the westward, where the hori-
zon was formed by the Green mountains Of
| Vermont. In the valley between lay smiling
| farms, in all the glory of harvest time, for
| the bright, warm sun shone upon fields Of
| stacked oats hillsides covered with corn in
| the shock, and acres of golden squashes and
| pumpkins, which adorned the brown earth
| exposed by the reaping of the corn.
| Some of the fields had been devoted to
| homelier crops. and mary men and boys
| were busy throwing out well-grown pota-
| toes putting them into strong bags or load
| ing them into carts. At the farm houses
along the road all the barn doors were
| open suggesting a welcome for the newly
harvested crops. From one large barn is
!
jumped out of the buggy to get a better
look / saw a thrashing machine at work,
operated by a sputtering, humping, bump
Ing little engine mounted four wagon
wheels just outside the door.
The interior of the barn was SO full of
dust that I could barely make out the
forms Of several men working rapidly
around the machine Two of them were
busy throwing into 1t handfulls of newly
cut oats. and two more were about as busy
emptytng and replacing the peck measures
which caught the oats as they poured out
of the machine after being threshed. This
was one of the portable threshing machines
which travel through the country here, and
whose owners for a reasonable fee do the
threshing for scores of farmers who do not
raise crops large enough to pay them to
own machines of their own.
In the Apple Orchards.
On most of the farms passed there were
thriving apple orchards and in some of
them men and women were gathering the
apples. In others the work had already
been done, and the fruit in barrels, stood
under the trees awaiting removal to the
house. Quite as beautiful as the cult
waited apple trees were the wild ones. scores
of which were to be seen along the
sides of the road. The fruit, a rule,
was small, but very abundant, and the eff
feet Of heavily laden trees was often most
decorative. These apples were of several
colors, but chiefly light yellow, golden yell
low and red, with here and there a tree ST
russets. OF red ones the most beautiful
were crab apples. which had, in addition To
their wonderful color, a delicate bloom like
that of a plum These apples are useful
as well as ornamental for from them the
housewives hereabouts make a jelly of
which they are justly proud
But 1t was not the harvesting of the
crops alone which told the traveller of the
passing of the year; great numbers of mi-
grant birds were winning their way over
n oa6 in he faId
hedge-rows. Cedar waxwings with their
plalntive whistles, goldfnches swinging
gaily through the air, and with their wing
beats marking time to their merry care.
less song, and myrtle warblers fitting from
hedge to hedge flashing brown and gold.
Hints Of the Approaching Winter.
Crows. in small f1ocks, tapped slowly
southwark, and from the woods the noisy
jays were shouting their harvest calls
Four-footed creatures, too, gave hints Of
the approaching winter. A red squirrel 1
saw, running along a stone wall, carrying
in his mouth a butternut, which minute
later he hid in hole beneath the root of a
tree. Several times my attention was at
tracted by the monotonous Chip chip
chip of a chipmunk and looking l would
always see him sitting on some stone or
fence rail, his cheek pouches bulging with
food which he had been gathering for his
winter supply.
once l saw woodchuck in a field near
the road, sitting at the mouth of his bur-
row. lie was indeed wise to sit so near it,
for otherwise, had danger threatened, he
would have had difficulty in reaching it
quickly, for he was too fat to do ANYTHING
but go to sleep. And this of course he will
do within the next few weeks to wake up
only when the first warm days of spring
shall advise him of the prospect of green
food.
None of these little animals was so fear
a a n
the bushes just in front of my horse and
sat up In the grass to take look at me-
He was so surprisingly tame, that as had
camera with me, got out Of the buggy
ana took two or three shots at him He
seemed rather interested in the operation.
and allowed me to get very close before he
hoped off into the woods. His coat was In
good condition in anticipation of the winter,
but otherwise Bunny had made no special
preparation for cold weahtar
Signs Of the Dying Year.
Most Of the late flowers had passed their
best, but still lent their bright colors to the
roadsides. Much of the goldenrod had turn
ed gray, but what remained of the yellow
blended beautifully with the purple of the
whitening asters and the deep blue of gem
tians, which had just been touched by the
frost. In the dusty grass black crickets
sang the song of the dying year. and /
wondered If they knew that they too were
soon 10 die and go to- their long Sleep
beneath coverlet of gorgeous leaves.
even now beginning to fall with each breath
of the autumn wind
Perhaps there was just shade of sadness
IN the chirping of these crickets and sad
ness, too. perhaps. in the falling of the
leaves. in the whitening flowers Of the aster
and goidenrod. and in the frost -hipped bios
SONS OF the gentan. But it is sadness
winch quickly passes when we realize that
these things which fade and die have fully
played their part on natures stage. ana
tnal now they go, only to make room for
others Of their kind, more beautiful moro
perfect, more wonderful than thew.
ERNEST HAROID pAvNu,o