nd admittance! He was
probably attempting to get a fly, which was on the pane of glass against
which he rapped; and on my first motion the feathered visitor took wing.
This incident had a curious effect on me. It impressed me as if the bird
had been a spiritual visitant, so strange was it that this little wild
thing should seem to ask our hospitality.

* * * * *

_November 8._--I am sorry that our journal has fallen so into neglect;
but I see no chance of amendment. All my scribbling propensities will be
far more than gratified in writing nonsense for the press; so that any
gratuitous labor of the pen becomes peculiarly distasteful. Since the
last date, we have paid a visit of nine days to Boston and Salem, whence
we returned a week ago yesterday. Thus we lost above a week of delicious
autumnal weather, which should have been spent in the woods or upon the
river. Ever since our return, however, until to-day, there has been a
succession of genuine Indian-summer days, with gentle winds or none at
all, and a misty atmosphere, which idealizes all nature, and a mild,
beneficent sunshine, inviting one to lie down in a nook and forget all
earthly care. To-day the sky is dark and lowering, and occasionally lets
fall a few sullen tears. I suppose we must bid farewell to Indian summer
now, and expect no more love and tenderness from Mother Nature till next
spring be well advanced. She has already made herself as unlovely in
outward aspect as can well be. We took a walk to Sleepy Hollow
yesterday, and beheld scarcely a green thing, except the everlasting
verdure of the family of pines, which, indeed, are trees to thank God
for at this season. A range of young birches had retained a pretty
liberal coloring of yellow or tawny leaves, which became very cheerful
in the sunshine. There were one or two oak-trees whose foliage still
retained a deep, dusky red, which looked rich and warm; but most of the
oaks had reached the last stage of autumnal decay,--the dusky brown hue.
Millions of their leaves strew the woods, and rustle underneath the
foot; but enough remain upon the boughs to make a melancholy harping
when the wind sweeps over them. We found some fringed gentians in the
meadow, most of them blighted and withered; but a few were quite
perfect. The other day, since our return from Salem, I found a violet;
yet it was so cold that day, that a large pool of water, under the
shadow of some trees, had rem