ould grow dizzy."

And looking at the kite, which soared far up, and seemed to be peeping
from side to side, around the small white clouds, Fanny laughed more
than ever.

But why should we waste our time in saying that the gay party were
pleased with everything, and laughed out loudly for that reason?

Perhaps a merrier company never made the golden days of autumn ring
with laughter, either at Apple Orchard, where hill and meadow echoed
to the joyous carol, or in any other place. Sitting beneath the oaks,
and looking to the old house buried in its beautiful golden trees, the
girls sang with their pure, melodious voices, songs which made the
fresh, yet dreamy autumn dearer still, and wrapped the hearts of those
who listened in a smiling, calm delight. Give youth only skies and
pure fresh breezes, and the ready laughter shows how happy these
things, simple as they are, can make it. It wants no present beyond
this; for has it not what is greater still, the radiant and rosy
future, with its splendid tints of joy and rapture?

Youth! youth! Erect in the beautiful frail skiff, he dares the tide,
gazing with glorious brow upon the palace in the cloud, which hovers
overhead, a fairy spectacle of dreamland--real still to him! Beautiful
youth! As he stands thus with his outstretched arms, the light upon
his noble face, and the young lips illumined by their tender smile,
who can help loving him, and feeling that more of the light of Heaven
lingers on his countenance, than on the man's? Youth! youth! beautiful
youth!--who, at times, does not look back to it with joyful wonder,
long for it with passionate regret--for its inexperience and
weakness!--its illusions and romance!--its fond trust, and April
smiles and tears! Who does not long to laugh again, and, leaning over
the bark's side, play with the foaming waves again, as in the old
days! Beautiful youth! sailing for Beulah, the land of flowers, and
landing there in dreams--how can we look upon your radiant brow and
eyes, without such regret as nothing taking root in this world can
console us for completely! Ah! after all, there is no philosophy like
ignorance--there is no joy like youth and innocence!

The shouts and laughter ringing through the merry fields, on the fine
autumn morning, may have led us into this discourse upon youth: the
very air was full of laughter, and when Fanny let the kite string go
by accident, the rapture grew intense.

Verty and Redbud sitting qui