Thees comea a month in the weary yoar - A month of k-isure and healthhil . When the npe Icaves íall, and the air ia clear: October: the brown, the crisp, the biest. My ufe has Iitíle enough of büss : I drag d:tys of the ofld eleven, Coiyitiiifí the tiino that shall lead to this- The month thai O] l-is the hunter's heaven. Andoh ! for (he mornings cripp and wliite, With the sweep oí the liounds upon the track ; The b&rk-roofed cnbin, the oamp-flre'a light, The break of the deer and the rifle's crack. l)o you cali this (ri;4.ins'; I teil yon, frieud, A lile in the forest ia past all praiso, Give me a dozen such months on end - You may take my balauoe of years and day i. For brick and mortar breed filth and crime, And a pulse of evil that throbs and beats ; And men grow withered betore tlieir prime ' Wi'ih the curse paved in on the lanes and streets ; Ad linios aro ehoked, and shoulders are bowed In the smoihering reek mili and mine ; Aud deufh Btttlks in on the strujjgling erowd, But he shuna the shadow of oak and pino. And of all to which the memory cüngs, There is uauht so veet as the sunnv spots Where our shanties stood by the crystaï sprüigs, The vamshed hounds, and the luoky shots. - From The Alrline far Octobrr.