James Lane Allen

“ By words I could no more give him an idea of what his mother
was than I could point him to a few measures of wheat and bid him
behold a living harvest.
Upon these fields of cool October greenness there risen out of the
earth a low, sturdy weed. Upon the top of this weed small white
blossoms open as still as stars of frost. Upon these blossoms lies a
fragrance so pure and wholesome that the searching sense is never
cloyed, never satisfied. Years after the blossoms are dried and yellow
and the leaves withered and gone, this wholesome fragrance lasts. ”

“ When the harvest has been gathered from our strong, true land, a growth
comes on which late in the year causes the earth to regain somewhat of
its old greenness. New blades spring up in the stubble of the wheat ”

“ It is the overflow of plenty beyond the filling of the
barns. It is a wave of life following quickly upon the one that broke
bountifully at our feet. It is nature's refusal to be once reaped and
so to end. ”