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320
RURAL HOURS.


“borne aloft,

Or sinking, as the light wind lives or dies.”

Beautiful moonlight this evening, with a decided frosty feeling in the air. The moon was determined to show us what she could do toward lighting up the autumn foliage at night; the effect was singular, as seen in the trees about the lawn. A dreamy fugitive coloring of scarlet and yellow seemed to be thrown over the sumachs and maples, near the house; and even upon the hills, in spots where the light fell with all its power, the difference between the colored belts of yellow or scarlet, and the darker evergreens, was quite perceptible.

Monday, 9th.—As the sun rose the lake lay buried in mist, which gradually rolled away, with sea-like glimpses of the water. The leaves of the locusts are shrivelled by the frost, and dropping rapidly and silently from the branches; several trees on the lawn will be all but bare to-night. The foliage always falls as much after a sharp frost as from the effect of a high wind; such mornings as this the leaves drop calmly and silently to the earth, but the stormy winds tear them angrily from the trees, and drive them wildly from grove to grove, from field to field, ere they rest beneath their shroud of snow.

The air is quite sharp this morning, and the birds come fluttering about the windows, as though it were more chilly than they liked out of doors; we saw several robins, sparrows, and goldfinches about the windows in different parts of the house. One goldfinch, in full color, flew against the glass pane. One would gladly open to the little creatures, but if we approach the window they are frightened, and fly off again; it is a pity we cannot make them understand they would be very welcome to warm