Thus you see that moderation is required of us in the midst of our enjoyments. But I do not intend now to preach a sermon. It is September, one of the pleasantest months of the year, and I have a few pleasant words to say about it. It is a season of delicious fruits; it is also a period when the excessive heat of summer is succeeded by the mild and gentle coolness of approaching autumn. The landscape has lost something of its brilliant verdure. The fields and forests are tinged with a sober brown. The leaves of the maple, the ash, and the oak are exchanging their green hue for brilliant dyes of red, purple, and yellow. Many of the birds are gathering in flocks, and, with much noisy chattering, are preparing to depart to southern climes, where they may spend the winter. The sparrow, the cat-bird, the thrush, and the towee-bunting have already withdrawn into the thickets. The robin has left the orchard, and retired to the forests, and the young crows, trying to caw like their fathers and mothers, are heard in the mountains. Whoever will take a walk in the woods will see a great many of that splendid bird, which has so many names, glancing from tree to tree, and seeming to hold some very good-natured discourse with his companions. This is the high-hole, high pole, flecker, yellow jay, or golden-winged wood-pecker, whichever you choose to call him. The gardener is now rooting up the weeds, and the farmer is getting in his second crop of hay, called _rowen_. The markets are now full of melons, and other fruits and vegetables, of many kinds,--potatoes, beets, carrots, cabbages, and tomatoes. Surely, September is a fine time. All Hallow-e’en. Among the inhabitants of Scotland, the last day of October is called All Hallow-e’en, or Holy evening. The people formerly had many superstitions and some pleasant customs respecting it. These still linger in the Highlands; and the following story, extracted from an English book, will give some account of the manner in which this evening is still commemorated there. There are few Highlanders in whom the memory of Hallow-e’en does not awaken some pleasing recollections of the past, and with it are associated some of their happiest days. I propose to explain to my young friends some of the joyous festivities of this season. Among many families in the Highlands, there were none I loved so well as the Graemes of Glennburton. Four merry girls and one quiet boy circled their hearth on the last day of October, the eventful Hallow-e’en. A crowd of young visitors was also there. The cheerful dance over, our dear and kind friend, Mr. Graeme, drank to many happy Hallow-e’ens, in which we noisy youngsters joined most heartily.