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The season.

--Though rather cool out of the direct influence of the sun's rays, the weather has been pretty enough, in all conscience, for several days. In the country nature gives token, visibly and audibly, of her presence; the birds sing a clearer and sweeter song; the leaves glow with a new depth of green; flowers burst into fragrant bloom. The grasses whisper it; the trees tell it to each other; the streams make it the burthen of their glad singing; even the millions of insects fluttering in the air grow troublesome with their familiar and unwelcome approaches; while the cattle browse upon a thousand bills and the air is filled with the perfume of flowers. Summer is beautiful. Let us see that it has also glorious fruits that may be plucked ere the return of stern winter. So mote it be.

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