Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

out-doors. The sky was a pale blue, the air smoky and the east­ern breeze blowing the trees was a thing of beauty.  All day long this breeze came in my window at work,and delighted me. At evening the sun as usual went down in the same delicate rose mists.

     By no means least of all good things of August, is sweet corn. We had our first allotment for supper, and the delight we took in eating it was almost fiendish.

     After supper,Bill came over, and for awhile we sat on the porch and talked and laughed. Bill made a remark which must be recorded here. He was telling about a serial that was running in the Salem news and said that getting the story in that manner was like getting a piece of maple sugar by drinking sugar water drop by drop. That is an hyperbole of the highest order. Presently I suggested we all go down to Moyer’s, but when it came to go, the crowd had dwindled to Bill, Louise and I. We