4. Stevenson was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in

1850. He belonged to a family of civil engineers. His health was always poor, so he traveled a great deal. He went to France and to Switzerland. He came to America and spent some time in the Adirondacks. Finally he settled on an island far out in the Pacific Ocean, where he lived till his death, in 1894. In spite of his poor health, he was a busy writer of novels, essays, short stories, and verse.

AUTUMN ON THE FARM

BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

This is a poetic description of an old-fashioned autumn scene on a England farm. The huskers in the field merely jerked the ear of corn from its stalk, leaving the husk on the ear. The husks were afterwards removed in the barn at a big husking bee or picnic, in which the neighbors took part. Read the poem for its pictures.

It was late in mild October, And the long autumnal rain Had left the summer harvest fields All green with grass again; The first sharp frosts had fallen, 5 Leaving all the woodlands gay With the hues of summer's rainbow Or the meadow flowers of May.

Through a thin, dry mist, that morning, The sun rose broad and red; 10 At first a rayless disk of fire, He brightened as he sped; Yet even his noontide glory Fell chastened and subdued On the cornfields and the orchards 15 And softly pictured wood.

And all that quiet afternoon, Slow sloping to the night, He wove with golden shuttle The haze with yellow light; 20

Slanting through the painted beeches, He glorified the hill; And beneath it pond and meadow Lay brighter, greener still.

And shouting boys in woodland haunts 5 Caught glimpses of that sky, Flecked by many-tinted leaves, And laughed, they knew not why; And schoolgirls, gay with aster flowers, Beside the meadow brooks, 10 Mingled the glow of autumn With the sunshine of sweet looks.

From spire and barn, looked westerly The patient weathercocks; But even the birches on the hill 15 Stood motionless as rocks. No sound was in the woodlands Save the squirrel's dropping shell, And the yellow leaves among the boughs, Low rustling as they fell. 20

The summer grains were harvested; The stubble fields lay dry, Where June winds rolled, in light and shade, The pale-green waves of rye; But still on gentle hill slopes, 25 In valleys fringed with wood, Ungathered, bleaching in the sun, The heavy corn crop stood.

Bent low by autumn's wind and rain, Through husks that, dry and sere, Unfolded from their ripened charge, Shone out the yellow ear; Beneath, the turnip lay concealed 5 In many a verdant fold, And glistened in the slanting light The pumpkin's sphere of gold.

There wrought the busy harvesters; And many a creaking wain 10 Bore slowly to the long barn floor Its load of husk and grain; Till, broad and red as when he rose, The sun sank down at last, And like a merry guest's farewell, 15 The day in brightness passed.

And lo! as through the western pines, On meadow, stream, and pond, Flamed the red radiance of a sky, Set all afire beyond, 20 Slowly o'er the eastern sea bluffs A milder glory shone, And the sunset and the moonrise Were mingled into one!

—The Huskers.

1. What is Indian summer? Is this a description of an Indian summer day? Sketch the field described, or the sunset. Observe the color words in the last stanza.