,
in _The Mountains._

SEPTEMBER 3.

Never was garden more unintentionally started, and never did one prove
greater source of pleasure. * * * One day, about Christmas time, my
little nephew brought me two small twigs of honeysuckle--not slips or
shoots, and I stuck them in the ground by the front porch. * * * When
it was just eighteen months old honeysuckle vines were twining tenderly
about the corner pillars of the porch, drawing their network across to
the other support, and covered with bunches of white, creamy tubes, the
air heavy with their perfume. * * * The climbing rose had reached the
lattice work, and its yellowish flowers formed a most effective
contrast to the sky-blue of the sollya blossoms, trained up on the
other side of the porch. The beds were edged variously with dark blue
violets and pink daisies, above which bloomed salvias, euphorbias,
lantanas, tube-roses, forget-me-nots, carnations, white lilies, Japan
lilies, iris, primroses, ranunculus, lilies-of-the-valley, pansies,
anemones, dahlias, and roses--white, red, pink, yellow, crimson,
cream--in the wildest profusion.

JOSEPHINE CLIFFORD McCRACKIN,
in _Another Juanita._

SEPTEMBER 4.

AFTERWARD.

A dying moon fell down the sky,
As one looked out to see
The place where once her soul endured
Its lengthened Calvary.
Of all the mem'ries gathered there--
Their faces wan with tears--
One only smiled--a baby's smile--
To rectify the years.

DOROTHEA L. MOORE.

SEPTEMBER 5.

The harvesting of hops is the conjunction of the rude essentials of
farm life with the highest effect in art. What artist but would note
enthusiastically the inimitable pose of that young girl tip-toeing to
bring down the tuft of creamy blossoms overhead; or the modest nudity
of the wee bronze savage capering about a stolid squaw in a red
sprigged muslin? Indeed, there is indescribable piquancy in this
unconscious grouping of the pickers and their freedom from restraint.
For each artistic bit--a laughing face in an aureole of amber clusters,
a statuesque chin and throat, Indians in grotesquely picturesque
raiment, and the yellow visages of the Chinese--the vines make an
idyllic framing with a sinking summer sun in the background lending a
shimmering transparency to leaf and flower.

NINETTA EAMES,
in _Hop-Picking Time, The Cosmopolitan, November_, 1893.

SEPTEMBER 6.

Golf has spread with great rapidity throughout Cal