106 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



On all grounds, then, I was entitled to 

 another look. And this time, perhaps, the 

 Lapland longspurs would be there to be en- 

 joyed with the rest. I would go again, there- 

 fore ; and on the morning of the 18th, long 

 before daylight, judging by the quietness of 

 the trees outside that the wind had gone down 

 (for wind is a serious hindrance to quiet 

 pleasure at the seashore in autumn, and visits 

 must be timed accordingly), I determined to 

 set out in good season and secure a longish 

 day. Venus and the old moon were growing 

 pale in the east when I started forth, and 

 three hours afterward I was footing it 

 through Ipswich village toward East Street 

 and the sea. 



As I crossed the marsh and approached 

 the gate, a stranger overtook me. We man- 

 aged the business together, one pulling the 

 gate to, the other tending the hook and 

 staple, and we spoke of the unusual green- 

 ness of the hills before us, on which flocks 

 and herds were grazing. There 's better 

 feed now than there 's been all summer," 

 the stranger said. It was easy to believe it. 

 Those broad-backed, grassy hills are one of 

 the glories of the North Shore. 



