P.S. I have thought of one other thing to say, Mr. Merry, and it is that I wish you would answer this letter. MERRY’S MUSEUM. Vol. VI. SEPTEMBER, 1843. No. 3. [Illustration] September. We have now reached the ninth month in the year――the first month of autumn――SEPTEMBER――the pleasantest month of all the twelve. It is true the leaves of the trees are beginning to turn yellow; many of the birds are departing for more southern climes; the evenings are getting chilly; the summer flowers are gone; and all around there is an air of soberness, almost of sadness. Yet there is something in all this, that makes the heart content, tranquil and happy. The earth is now abounding with fruit. The peaches, the plums, the pears, the apples, the grapes, are ripe, and seem to invite us to taste them. How pleasant it is to be in the country now! Say, my little friends, is not September the finest of all the months? Jumping Rabbit’s Story. CHAPTER III. _The return of our party.――Sports and festivities._ After I had been about a month in the village, a swift Indian, despatched by the warriors who had been absent on an expedition against some distant tribes, came in, and announced that the whole party were near at hand, and would enter the village the following morning. Preparations were therefore made to receive them. All was bustle and activity, though this seemed to consist more in running about, and chattering like a set of magpies, than anything else. The children leaped, frolicked, shouted, and fought mimic battles as well as real ones, in which they bit, scratched, kicked and pulled hair, in honor of the coming celebration. The women went about from tent to tent, talking with great animation and keeping up the hum, which might be heard at the farther extremity of the village. Evening at last came, but there was no cessation of the excitement. The greater part of the night was spent in talking, squabbling, dancing, jumping, leaping and yelling. At length the morning came, and just as the sun was rising, an Indian, painted blue and red, carrying on his head the skin taken from the pate of a grizzly bear, was seen creeping along in the edge of the adjacent wood. He was soon followed by another, painted in a similar manner, with the horns and pate of a buffalo upon his head. Others succeeded, all of them painted and dressed in the most wild and fantastic manner, until about a hundred warriors had gathered in the thickets of the forest, close to the village. A pause of at least half an hour ensued. All within the wood was silent, and not a trace of the savages that lurked in its bosom, could be discovered. The women, children and old men of the village had gathered in the open space encircled by the tents, where they awaited the coming spectacle in breathless expectation.