NATURE IN NOVEMBER. 



THE Frontispiece to this month's sketch admirably portrays 

 the scene in the woods in November. 



Standing underneath the trees how the wind howls, but it is 

 delightful to be out and about on a November morn if the 

 rambler keeps on the move, and now that the leaves are nearly 

 all off the trees many sights meet the eye that were unseen 

 when the trees and hedgerows wore their Summer dresses. 



Everything seems desolate and bare, here and there a cluster 

 of Berries relieves the surroundings somewhat, but a closer in- 

 spection into Nature for November reveals sights and sounds 

 that the less acute observer can hardly contemplate. 



I always think that the brooks and the rivers seem in a 

 greater hurry to babble along in this month than at any other 

 period of the year. True enough they are swollen and the 

 volume of water being carried is well up to high water mark, 

 but as one stands gazing into the rushing stream it seems as 

 if it is in a terrible hurry to reach the ocean and bury itself 

 in its mighty depths. At this season it has no beautiful Water 

 Forget-me-nots to stop and caress, no giant Marsh Marigolds 

 to stop and make love to, no yellow-breasted Wagtails to stop 

 and watch in their many pleasing antics; there are no flower- 

 ing Rushes and Flags to pay tribute to; they are all gone, 

 and there is methinks some excuse for the rushing on. At 

 this season the cattle seem desolate and miserable, but on a 

 fine warm morning they forget themselves and indulge in 

 playful skirmishes and try to think it is Springtime again. 



Rambling along we come across an old shed, but it is empty, 

 and daylight can be seen through it in several places. It is a 

 dismal looking place to shelter in if a storm suddenly comes 

 along; it is rank, mildewed, and fast going to decay. Let us 

 turn to another side of the picture this is the Bracken season ; 

 it beautifies every wild place with its graceful form. It grows 



