which was nailed a boy's windmill, where it had probably been turning and
clattering for years together, till now it was black with time and
weather-stain. It was broken, but still it went round whenever the wind
stirred. The spot was entirely secluded, there being no other house
within a mile or two.

No language can give an idea of the beauty and glory of the trees, just
at this moment. It would be easy, by a process of word-daubing, to set
down a confused group of gorgeous colors, like a bunch of tangled skeins
of bright silk; but there is nothing of the reality in the glare which
would thus be produced. And yet the splendor both of individual clusters
and of whole scenes is unsurpassable. The oaks are now far advanced in
their change of hue; and, in certain positions relatively to the sun,
they light up and gleam with a most magnificent deep gold, varying
according as portions of the foliage are in shadow or sunlight. On the
sides which receive the direct rays, the effect is altogether rich; and
in other points of view it is equally beautiful, if less brilliant. This
color of the oak is more superb than the lighter yellow of the maples and
walnuts. The whole landscape is now covered with this indescribable
pomp; it is discerned on the uplands afar off; and Blue Hill in Milton,
at the distance of several miles, actually glistens with rich, dark
light,--no, not glistens, nor gleams,--but perhaps to say glows subduedly
will be a truer expression for it.

Met few people this morning; a grown girl, in company with a little boy,
gathering barberries in a secluded lane; a portly, autumnal gentleman,
wrapped in a greatcoat, who asked the way to Mr. Joseph Goddard's; and a
fish-cart from the city, the driver of which sounded his horn along the
lonesome way.