A Cool, Gray Day. 



1 HERE is many a pat phrase that comes to 

 mind, particularly when, on pleasure bent, we stand 

 at the portal of the out-door world. It matters 

 not whether we go to meet the sun upon the up- 

 land lawn, or thread the misty by-paths of a lonely 

 valley, the initial thought will come with effort on 

 our part, and, what is of greater significance, will 

 color all thought throughout the day. When I 

 reached the river this morning, and took a compre- 

 hensive glance of the world about me, this thought 

 was uppermost : a cool, gray day. And although 

 it is yet early in August, every moment has been 

 tempered with the breath of autumn ; every out- 

 look that of fulfilment. 



It was a cool, gray day, and with nothing so 

 prominent as to suggest an outing. No nook or 

 corner had put its best foot forward and beckoned 

 196 



