d of an axe in the woodland; occasionally, the report of a
fowling-piece. The travellers in the early part of the afternoon look
warm and comfortable, as if taking a summer drive; but as eve draws
nearer, you meet them well wrapped in top-coats or cloaks, or rough,
great surtouts, and red-nosed withal, seeming to take no great comfort,
but pressing homeward. The characteristic conversation among teamsters
and country squires, where the ascent of a hill causes the chaise to go
at the same pace as an ox-team,--perhaps discussing the qualities of a
yoke of oxen. The cold, blue aspects of sheets of water. Some of the
country shops with the doors closed; others still open as in summer. I
meet a wood-sawyer, with his horse and saw on his shoulders, returning
from work. As night draws on, you begin to see the gleaming of fires on
the ceilings in the houses which you pass. The comfortless appearance of
houses at bleak and bare spots,--you wonder how there can be any
enjoyment in them. I meet a girl in a chintz gown, with a small shawl on
her shoulders, white stockings, and summer morocco shoes,--it looks
observable. Turkeys, queer, solemn objects, in black attire, grazing
about, and trying to peck the fallen apples, which slip away from their
bills.

* * * * *

_October 16th, 1837._--Spent the whole afternoon in a ramble to the
sea-shore, near Phillips's Beach. A beautiful, warm, sunny afternoon,
the very pleasantest day, probably, that there has been in the whole
course of the year. People at work, harvesting, without their coats.
Cocks, with their squad of hens, in the grass-fields, hunting
grasshoppers, chasing them eagerly with outspread wings, appearing to
take much interest in the sport, apart from the profit. Other hens
picking up the ears of Indian corn. Grasshoppers, flies, and flying
insects of all sorts, are more abundant in these warm autumnal days than
I have seen them at any other time. Yellow butterflies flutter about in
the sunshine, singly, by pairs, or more, and are wafted on the gentle
gales. The crickets begin to sing early in the afternoon, and sometimes
a locust may be heard. In some warm spots, a pleasant buzz of many
insects.

Crossed the fields near Brookhouse's villa, and came upon a long
beach,--at least a mile long, I should think,--terminated by craggy
rocks at either end, and backed by a high, broken bank, the grassy
summit of which, year by year, is continually br