Blue smoke, scarlet leaves of trailing ivy, golden corn shocks-and October is here in all the glory of her warm rich colors. The homemaker stands on her doorstep wistful and longing. Would that she could save it all, preserve it, put it up in cans as she did with the other good things of nature. Would that she could transfer to her plain drab rooms the brightness and warmth of the glorious outdoors. Would that, during the cold bare months of winter her family might be cheered by the sight of a little of the wondrous color with which nature was now so generous and then so stingy
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