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[Newspaper clipping]

APPLETIME IN ACADIE.

The mellow golden afternoon
Rests like a blessing on the valley
fields
Glimmering with gorgeous golden rod
And burnished with the orange Black-
Eyed Susans
With here and there a soft thread of
dull blue asters
Weaving like a minor undertone
That modifies some brilliant theme
Of melody so golden rich and rare
The heart can hardly bear its
poignance.

The cloudlike amethystine mountains
to the north
Now wear a tinge of gold along their
rim,
And nearer, winding down their lower
hills
With mystic seeming of a gypsy caravan
Surrounded by a cloud of golden dream
dust,
Minted by the Midas touch of soft Sep-
tember suns,
Comes creaking, swaying leisurely,
A load of creamy barrels hooped with
bronze;
And near and far on every side the
golden road
Lies orchard after orchard basking in
the sun,
Their tent-like bronze-green trees borne
down with fragrant fruit
The rosy astrachans and golden grav-
ensteins,
Not bearing discord as the apple famed,
of gold,
Rather abundance, fair seeming and
good worth,
Filling the countryside with wealth and
thankfulness.

Happy the travler who may by the
wayside rest
In Acadie at apple-gathering time,
And from the golden goblet of the
autumn fair
Imbibe rich draughts of happiness and
deep content.

--Erica Austin Selfridge, in The
Christian Science Monitor.

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