We are most apt to remember and cherish the flowers which appear earliest in the spring. I look with equal affection on those which are the latest to bloom in the fall. The choke-berry (_Pyrus arbutifolia_). The beautiful white waxen berries of the cornel, either _Cornus alba_ or _paniculata_, white-berried or panicled, beautiful both when full of fruit and when its cymes are naked; delicate red cymes or stems of berries; spreading its little fairy fingers to the skies, its little palms; fairy palms they might be called. One of the viburnums, _Lentago_ or _pyrifolium_ or _nudum_, with its poisonous-looking fruit in cymes, first greenish-white, then red, then purple, or all at once. The imp-eyed, red, velvety-looking berry of the swamps.[54] The spotted polygonum (_Polygonum Persicaria_), seen in low lands amid the potatoes now, wild prince’s-feather (?), slight flower that does not forget to grace the autumn. The late whortleberry—dangleberry—that ripens now that other huckleberries and blueberries are shrivelled and spoiling, September 1st; dangle down two or three inches; can rarely find many. They have a more transparent look, large, blue, long-stemmed, dangling, fruit of the swamp concealed. I detect the pennyroyal which my feet have bruised. Butter-and-eggs still hold out to bloom. * * * * * I notice that cows never walk abreast, but in single file commonly, making a narrow cow-path, or the herd walks in an irregular and loose wedge. They retain still the habit of all the deer tribe, acquired when the earth was all covered with forest, of travelling from necessity in narrow paths in the woods. At sundown a herd of cows, returning homeward from pasture over a sandy knoll, pause to paw the sand and challenge the representatives of another herd, raising a cloud of dust between the beholder and the setting sun. And then the herd boys rush to mingle in the fray and separate the combatants, two cows with horns interlocked, the one pushing the other down the bank. My grandmother called her cow home at night from the pasture over the hill, by thumping on a mortar out of which the cow was accustomed to eat salt. At Nagog I saw a hundred bushels of huckleberries in one field. * * * * * The Roman wormwood, pigweed, a stout, coarse red-topped (?) weed (_Amaranthus hybridus_), and spotted polygonum; these are the lusty growing plants now, September 2d. Tall, slender, minute white-flowered weed in gardens, annual fleabane (_Erigeron Canadensis_). * * * * * One of my neighbors, of whom I borrowed a horse, cart, and harness to-day, which last was in a singularly dilapidated condition, considering that he is a wealthy farmer, did not know but I would make a book about it. * * * * *