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Updated: May 24, 2025
October's winds are too searching for us to linger beside the brook, but still it is pleasant to pass by and remember the summer days. For the year is never gone by; in a moment we can recall the sunshine we enjoyed in May, the roses we gathered in June, the first wheatear we plucked as the green corn filled.
It was when September brought people home for the partridge shooting and October's pheasants kept them there till hunting began, that they expected their success and the return for their outlay, and they were quite content to wait for it.
I'm sorry for it; the last day of the season is the worst day in the year to me. I'm ill for a week after it." "Well, General, please the pigs, we'll be in great tune next October. I've as fine a set of puppies to enter as there is in Ireland, let alone Connaught. You must come down, and tell me what you think of them." "Next October's all very well for you young fellows, but I'm seventy-eight.
The low hills, clothed with foliage, richly stained by October's brush; the little valley lying warm in the sunlight, was a welcome change to the dead monotony of the prairie, where the sky shut down close to the dull brown earth, with no support of leafy pillars.
Thereupon, during the retreat, the warriors who had been compelled to join his standard contrary to their inclination, gradually fell off; one by one the chieftains deserted him as they saw the superiority of the forces of the enemy; even the principal murid, Hamsad Bey, deceived, it is said, by forged proclamations issued in the name of the prophet, separated himself from a leader whose fortunes were so evidently on the wane; and when October's unfallen leaves were still covering the hills of Himri, the Russian bayonets arrived to add their gleam to the gorgeousness of the autumnal decay of nature.
And now let us put on our seven-league boots and walk from September's green and brown, through October's gold and crimson, into that season of the year 1906 when Nature is shifting her scenery, making ready for the great spring show.
Among October's massing leaves, a small disquiet stirred. The leaves banked orderly between their parent trunks. Sabre noticed as a curious thing how, when they stirred, they only trembled in their massed formations, not broke their ranks, as if some live thing ran beneath them. He said, "Do you know what this seems to me?
"Why, Hugo!" she said, surprised and a little uncomfortable. "That's so much dear foolishness and not a stitch of clothes made yet! October's just around the corner.... Do sit up, Hugo dear. There's papa, I think." Hugo sat up. Reason reasserted its sway.
October's first-born, welcome thou! Thanks of a purer kind, than all who worship thee, More heartfelt thanks I'm bringing now! For thou to me the one whom I have loved so well, And love with fondness to the grave, Who merits in my heart forevermore to dwell, The best of friends in Rieger gave.
"And they say too that you are beloved of the gods and men as long as you keep your faith in it." "Then I'll certainly have to get one," laughed Jane Ridgeway, who had joined the group, "for I am October's child. Let me see it, A.O." She adjusted her glasses and took the plump little hand in hers for inspection. "I always have thought that opals are the prettiest of all the stones.
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