"The scarlet leaves are gone."

"Gone! fallen, do you mean?"

"No! some one has cut or broken every branch. There is not one left.
The leaves made the whole costume, you see; it amounts to nothing
without them, merely a yellow gown."

"Oh! my dear, what a shame! Who could have taken them?"

"I cannot imagine. I thought I would get them to-day, and keep them
in water over night, so as to have them all ready to-morrow. Oh, well,
it can't be helped. I can call myself a sunflower, or Black-eyed
Susan, or some other yellow thing. It's absurd to mind, of course,
only--"

"Only, being human, you do mind," said Tennessee, putting her arm
round her friend's waist. "I should think so, dear. We don't care
about having you canonized just yet. But, Maine, there must be more
red leaves somewhere. This comes of living near the sea. Now, in my
mountains, or in your woods, we could just go out and fill our arms
with glory in five minutes, whichever way we turned. These murmuring
pines and--well, I don't know that there are any hemlocks--are all
very splendid, and no one loves them better than I do; but for a
Harvest festival decoration, '_Ils ne sont pas la dedans_,' as the
French have it."

"Slang, Tennessee! one cent!"

"On the contrary; foreign language, mark of commendation.