himself intricately in the grass and weeds, in order by their friction to facilitate the changing of his garment. The slough is found inverted without any rent in it; from which it appears that this reptile creeps out at the mouth of the slough, quitting the tail part last, in the same manner as eels are skinned. Very few insects come forth so late in the season; the phalena russula and papilio hyale, however, now make their appearance. The most useful fruit that this country affords, the apple, successively ripens, according to its several varieties, from July to October: but the principal harvest of them is about the close of this month. They are now gathered for our English vintage, the cider-making, which in some counties, particularly Worcestershire, Somersetshire, and Devonshire, is a busy and important employment; but, like the hop, it is so precarious a produce, as to render it unwise for the cultivator to place his chief dependence on it. Autumn paints Ausonian hills with grapes, whilst English plains Unlocks th' embosomed odours, walk among The well-ranged file of trees, whose full-aged stores Now, now's the time; ere hasty suns forbid The work, disburden thou thy sapless wood PHILIPS. The apples, after being carefully gathered, are laid awhile to mellow, and then crushed in a mill, and pressed till all their juice is extracted. This, after being fermented, becomes cider, which may properly be called apple-wine. Pears treated in the same manner yield a vinous liquor called perry. The richest and strongest kinds are distributed for sale over the whole country, and the inferior sorts serve as common drink in the districts where they are produced. Another agreeable product of our thickets and gardens the hazel-nut, is fit for gathering at this time. ACORNS AND MAST. Ye virgins, come, for you their latest song And, where they burnish on the topmost bough, Or shakes them ripe from the resigning bush. 429 The oak now begins to shed its acorns, and the nuts fall from the beech, both of which have the name of mast. These, in the extensive woodland tracts of the Continent, afford a plentiful food to the swine, which are allowed to range in them at this period. In England, most of the old forests are fallen to decay, but in the few that still remain in the southern parts of the island, particularly the New Forest, this annual supply of what in the primitive times constituted the chief food of man, affords a luxurious pasturage for six weeks, from about the end of September, to the hogs that are kept on the borders of the forest. In Mr. Gilpin's elegant "Remarks on Forest Scenery," there is a very entertaining account of the manners and management of the hogs during the time of their autumnal residence in the woods; from which the following account is extracted. "The first step the swineherd takes, is to investigate some close sheltered part of the forest, where there is a conveniency of water, and plenty of oak or beech mast; the former of which he prefers when he can have it in abundance. He next fixes on some spreading tree, round the bole of which he wattles a slight, circular fence of the dimensions he wants; and covering it roughly with boughs and sods, he fills it plentifully with straw or fern. Having made this preparation, he collects his colony among the farmers, with whom he commonly agrees for a shilling a head, and will get together a herd of five or six hundred hogs. Having driven them to their destined habitation, he gives them a plentiful supper of acorns or beech mast, which he had already provided, sounding his horn during the repast. He then turns them into the litter, where, after a long journey, and a hearty meal, they sleep deliciously. "The next morning he lets them look a little around them, shows them the pool or stream where they may occasionally drink, leaves them to pick up the offals of the last night's meal, and as evening draws on, gives them another plentiful repast under the neighbouring trees, which rain acorns upon them for an hour together at the sound of his horn. He then sends them again to sleep. "The following day he is perhaps at the pains of procuring them another meal, with music playing as usual. He then leaves them a little more to themselves, having an eye, however, on their evening hours. But as their bellies are full, they seldom wander far from home, retiring commonly very orderly and early to bed. "After this he throws his stye open, and leaves them to cater for themselves; and henceforward has little more trouble with them during the whole time of their migration. Now and then in calm weather, when mast falls sparingly, he calls them together perhaps by the music of his horn to a gratuitous meal; but in general they need little attention, returning regularly home at night, though they often wander in the day two or three miles from their stye. There are experienced leaders in all herds, which have spent this roving life before; and can instruct their juniors in the method of it. By this management, the herd is carried · home to their respective owners in such condition, that a little dry meat will soon fatten them." On the twenty-second of September happens the autumnal equinox; that is, the sun arrives at one of the two equinoctial points, formed by the crossing of the equator and equinoctial circle, at which period the days and nights are equal all over the earth. This, as well as the vernal equinox, is generally attended with heavy storms of wind and rain, which throw down much of the fruit that yet remains on the trees. By the end of this month the leaves of many trees lose their green colour, and begin to assume their autumnal tints; which, however, are not complete till the ensuing month. AUTUMN. I saw old Autumn in the misty morn HOOD. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing-wind; Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; KEATS. NUTTING. September 26th." One of those delicious autumnal days when the air, the sky, and the earth, seem lulled into an universal calm, softer and milder even than they. We sallied forth," says Miss Mitford, "for a walk, in a mood congenial to the weather and season, avoiding by mutual consent the bright and sunny common, another gay high-road, and stealing through shady unfrequented lanes, where we were not likely to meet any one,-not even the pretty family procession which in other years we used to contemplate with so much interest -father, mother, and children returning from the wheat-field, the little ones laden with close-tied bunches of wheat-ears, their own gleanings, or a bottle and a basket which had con |