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October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green.
When we come to die, we shall be alone. From all our worldly possessions we shall be about to part. Worldly friends — the friends drawn to us by our position, our wealth, or our social qualities, — will leave us as we enter the dark valley. From those bound to us by stronger ties — our kindred, our loved ones, children, brothers, sisters, and from those not less dear to us who have been made our friends because they and we are the friends of the same Saviour, — from them also we must part. Yet not all will leave us. There is One who "sticketh closer than a brother" — One who having loved His own which are in the world loves them to the end.
Then the merry little boys they will ramble, / So gleesome, o’er mountain and dale, / Where the sweets of the rose through the bramble / Will be blown by the mild summer gale: / Then a share of Nature’s smiles each morning / To the poor humble peasant will be given. / While the lark from his covert he is soaring, / His musical notes to the heaven.