1 80 Walks in New England 



A Fall Day of Mists 



A DAY like yesterday was not a day to bring 

 out the colour. But it was one of the 

 most wonderful of days for beauty, if one 

 only lifted himself high enough. Dull and de 

 pressing, fairly of the dog-day type, inthe valleys, 

 on the hills it was marked by vigorous life, in 

 the infinite swift movement of the low cloud 

 masses over the great expanse of country. Even 

 from the cliffs of Mount Tom so down-reaching 

 and valley-pervading were the clouds, one had 

 delight in being above the storm, if storm the 

 rapid slight mists could be termed, which swinging 

 in and rolling over and over and whirling around 

 from the east, swept over the valleys and broke 

 upon the western hills. There the mist clouds 

 encompassed the mountain for a few minutes, 

 and suddenly a break showed sunlight on the 

 fields below, and in a moment more a great white 

 mass rushing northward, hit by the full force of 

 the sun, fairly blazed upon the eye, while the 

 moving tumult under the shadow of the pursuing 



