October 2.

October 3.

I find sweet peace in depths of autumn woods, Where grow the ragged ferns and roughened

moss;

The naked, silent trees have taught me this, -
The loss of beauty is not always loss!

Mrs. Elizabeth Stoddard.

October 5.

Think not, when the wailing winds of autumn
Drive the shivering leaflets from the tree,
Think not all is over: spring returneth,
Buds and leaves and blossoms thou shalt see.

Weeping for a night alone endureth,

God at last shall bring a morning hour;

In the frozen buds of every winter

Sleep the blossoms of a future flower.

October 6.

Toiling early, and toiling late,

Mrs. H. B. Stowe.

Though her name was never heard,
To the least of her Saviour's little ones
She meekly ministered.

Such a perfect life as hers, again,

In the world we may not see;

For her heart was full of love, and her hands

Were full of charity.

Phœbe Cary.

October 5.

October 6.

Jimmy and I are fellows for play!
Never tired of it, rain or shine.
Jimmy was six the last birthday,
While I was only - sixty-nine!

And sadly the question bothers me,
As I stop in my play to look at him
What will the Twentieth Century be,
If the Nineteenth's youngsters are all like Jim?
K. P. Osgood.

October 8.

Life is a leaf of paper white

Whereon each one of us may write

His word or two, and then comes night.

Greatly begin! though thou have time
But for a line, be that sublime, -

Not failure, but low aim, is crime.

October 9.

She moved with recognition sweet,

J. R. Lowell.

She bowed with courtesy calm and kind.
As graceful as the waving wheat

That bends before the summer wind.

I heard her rich tones sounding through
The many voices like a strain

Of lofty music, strong and true,
And perfect joy was mine again.

Mrs. Celia Thaxter.

October 8.

October 9.