CHAPTER IX.
The same sweet weather continued again the next day; the air was even warmer still, the leaves of oaks and maples, turning more and more, were growing browner and ruddier, and the glow on the hills more deep. The pine wood, however, which lay behind, that is, north of the house, at no great distance, was uninvaded by this autumn glow. The soft, blue gleam of the pines alone stood against the heaven's mild blue overhead, and pine needles, brown and thick, carpeted the ground everywhere between the rocks. For rocks were almost everywhere at Mosswood. Only on the skirts of the wood one might see a flaming maple branch, or a golden cloud of hickory here and there, and here and there a cat-briar vine taking a tawny hue, or some low-growing cornus putting on lovely tints of madder at the edges of its leaves. Through the wood the little party wandered, not knowing where to choose to stop, and Meredith patiently drew the cart along waiting for orders. At last, on a little rising ground they found an open space, yet shadowed enough, from which there was a lookout to the house in the valley; truly no more than the chimneys could be seen; and a wider space of blue sky, and the hills towards the south. This would do. Here were pine needles enough for a carpet, and a felled pine log gave a convenient seat to those who liked it. For Meredith and Maggie preferred the ground and the pine needles. The cart was drawn up under the shade of a tree; afghan and worsted embroidery were taken out; shawls were spread; and the party settled themselves for a morning of comfort.
"This is good!" said Meredith delaying to open his book.
"How perfectly delicious this warm smell of the pines is!" said Flora.
"You use strong language, Flo, but for once not exaggerated. We have not got the sound of the wood-chopper's axe to-day."
"I'll tell you what you may hear, though, if you listen," said Esther,—"the woodpecker—
"'The woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree;'
only there are no beech-trees on the place. You may hear him on an oak, though."
"This hazy light under the pines—through the pines—is bewitching. O October! O Mosswood!" Meredith exclaimed. "What is so pretty as these autumn woods?"
"What are you going to read us to-day?" said his sister. "Don't get poetical."