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Show Hail New Sweei Cid c r I Pour tho libation on tho altar ot October. What moro eloqiant of tho fi tilting tlmo of tho year than th leg-ni! leg-ni! dlsphjod on every sldo "Now Sweet Cider"? In tho draught comes a tingling thrill ns If the lifo blood ot the npplo sent an Inspiration through tho veins. No bitterness mars tho flavor, thoro Is no hint of coming decay; this Is uot tho fall ot tho year, It Is tho climax of tho glad oxpcrlcnces ot a Ilfotime. If wntcr Is tho alo of Father Adam, sweet elder Is tho liquor of Father Time. An exhilaration steals through tho brain. Memory unfolds visions of awakening to life In rosy dawn fanned fan-ned by tho mildest March winds, of the proralso ot tho Eastertide crowned with blossoms diffusing an Inconso on tho nltnr of nature, of moonlit Juno nights whon young apples blushed under un-der sheltering loaves and tho sweet sap throbbed in tho heart of the ripening rip-ening pulp. Then camo long harvest duys that smiled sereno until tho fruit, golden or red, hung llko Jowols upon tho branches. Still other recollections haunt tho orchard ways. Gladly hall tho homely memories. Thcro wo carried milk fr tho cnlvcs, there tho young turkeys peeped, nnd tho nutocrnt of the Hock gobbled deflanco nt our Intrusion, and tho honey bees hummed nbovo tho rose-crowned npplo trees. In tho early autumn tho scono shifts to tho cldor mill at tho foot of tho hill. Our nostrils drow In tho frn-granco frn-granco of crushed apples no nectar of tho gods could bo sweeter than the cider thnt was sucked through u straw slyly Inserted In a chink In the logs till It met tho overbrimming vnt. All hull to Cores and tho fruits ol autumn. I,ct n.icchua danco with tho grapoj our libation shall flow from tho veins of tho npplo troo ln now sweet cider. Chicago Post |