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This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1918. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... MOTHER AUTUMN AND NORTH WIND SCENE: An open place. Six Autumn Days are busy coloring flowers, fruit, and the leaves on the trees. First Day. Do give me some more color. This yellow won't stay on t... More

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1918. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... MOTHER AUTUMN AND NORTH WIND SCENE: An open place. Six Autumn Days are busy coloring flowers, fruit, and the leaves on the trees. First Day. Do give me some more color. This yellow won't stay on the pumpkins. Second Day. Mix it deeper. See, mine is quite golden for the edges of these leaves. Use some of this, if you wish. Third Day. Or some of mine. Here--I have plenty of red--bright and clear. All (looking up). Ha! ha! Red for pumpkins! Much you know about color. Fourth Day. Yes! Who ever heard of a red pumpkin! But I've just finished these goldenrods and have nearly a pail full of yellow left. Touch up the pumpkins with some of this. First Day (coming forward). Just the thing! But I do wish Mother Autumn would come and show me how it should be put on. Fifth Day. She did. She showed us all, and warned us to lose no time about it. So you'd better make short work of those pumpkins. First Day. But I can't make them look right. I don't know how much to put on-- Sixth Day (looking up from work). Oh, nonsense. Just daub and daub and don't think so much about it. I put on any color I choose and as much as I like. The more the merrier, say I. Second Day. Oh, that's why your leaves are all speckled and blotched and--what not! But I like them. They're prettier than usual, this year. (While they are speaking Frost Fairies slip in unseen and run among them, touching them gently.) Third Day (shivering). Oh, it's getting so cold. (Drops her bucket of paint.) There! I have spilled all my color and these leaves are not half done. Sixth Day. Never mind. The paint will all mix up with the rest and my golden-rod under the trees will catch most of it. But it is getting cold; I'm shivering, too. All (shivering). Oh! oh! First Day. Something cold touched me. It felt like an icy fing...

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