The Hartford republican. (Hartford, Ky.) 18??-1926, 1912-10-04
LAST GIRL C0TTAGER
RIOTS IN Sentiment

have things all to ourselves now ant
we are having the time of our lives
They stand silent in the October
sunshine. But IL is a silence of a dit
! ferent quality from that of the sum
| merit is GREATNESS. eager. That Is
strange, since what they are waiting
for is desolation TO them-the touch
of frost, the sad whirl of the winds
There is a golden quality to the very
air, the reflection of the yellow of the
beeches, the Indian orange and red o.
the sassafras, the following brown OF
the oaks darkening into splashes OF
rusty crimson and streaks of luminous
bronze. There is nothing In the world
so like bronze as certain Of the OAK
leaves.
Occasionally by some roadside
across some clearing. the eye falls on
a great confiagration running close &c
the ground 1t Is the dwarf sumach
which is a veritable living flame. The
goldenrod is all rusty and the wild
asters have vanished. The ground is
half covered by a patterned carpet
from the trees above. Slashing through
this riot Of tones Is something that
glitters with an uncanny, ripping
brilliance In the soft, steady rays OF
| the sun-it Is the inland lake. which
was commonplace enough when just
blue or gray in the summer. Now II
is a sheet Of quicksilver pricked by
diamond points.
All through the woods Is a rustling
and scurrying and chattering. for the
squirrels are getting ready for winter
and making a great uproar about it.
Max, the collie. passes his days in
hysterical chases, covering the ground
in the splendid, long leaps that only
a collie can manage, but always the
little red.brown squirrel flashes up a
tree just in the nick of time and barks
staccato defiance In answer to the
dogs yells Of disgust and defeat be-
low. Max has been known to dash
wildly into the bungalow and drag
any handy human being to the tree
where some particularly exasperating
squirrel was safely ensconced and de.
mand excitedly that his friend get the
villain down and deliver him over for
punishment. II you speak collie Eng
lish you can readily understand Max.
1.-THE squirrels are tolerably tame.
They will sit within armthrow
Of you on a branch and eat
If you are quiet. Once I saw
one Chamber up q hemlock with a
mushroom that must have weighed a
pound, and. sitting up on his launches.
deliberately eat 1t to the last shred.
winking defiance when l insisted that
1t was a toadstool. There was no dead
squirrel under that tree next day, SO
he must have Won the bet.
The air is full Of wings. The blue
Jays and crows and wrens and black
birds and woodpeckers are yet in evi-
dence, though the robins are gone.
The crows sweep and cav, the black
birds shrill and chatter and all the
tree trunks resound to the woodpeck-
ers' tapping search for insects. A
couple of infinitesimal wrens hopping
about through the leaves will make a
lot of noise. And all day long this
feathered army is closing in on one.
Where the sun is hottest on the
yellow grass the crickets still chirp
and the green katydids sing from
bending stalks. The crickets creep
into the bungalow on the logs for the
fireplace and chirp from the corners
of the room.
Some morning, when It Is particu.
larly golden and still, on your throw
ing open the doors the world will be
filled with a tremendous chatter OF
birds-not of a few, but apparently
of all the birds on earth, all talking
at once. Rushing out, you find a doz-
en- trees inky with blackbirds. gather
ing for their migration. For two or
three days this din keeps up and oc-
casionally the thousands will move up
to another set of trees with q sweep
through the air like waves. Then Of
sudden they are gone. You did not
see them on their grand hight-nobody
ever does catch them at 1t. They sim.
ply were and now are not, so far as
you are concerned.
LNCIy udy INC iCdNcS
and the paths and walks are hidden
under them. The ground Is speckled
with resinous pine cones and beech
nuts and acorns. A sharper frost than
usual pinches the last geraniums in
your garden and at night the cold
creeps up through the living-room and
you edge toward the blazing fireplace.
"After the long stretch Of quiet.
perfect days of Indian sum-
mer you notice one evening as you
draw the curtains and shut out the
last glimpse Of the REDEEMED sun drop
ping back OF the black trees into the
lake THAI the wind IL rising. 1t comes
fast and hard and imperious. All night
the acorns beat on the roof like bull
let's and there is no wild scamper of
squirrels or raccoons above your head
but a steady fall Of some
thing crisp and whispering and mys-
teious. .....
in the morning you find a. you try |
to walk against that. relentless cold |
wind whipping the lake into white
caps that only q few leaves still cling
to the naked trees. The bungalow,