THE PAGEANT OF THE SEASONS 97 



tinted yellow here and another touched with spots of 

 crimson, but still enough to tell us that the pageant 

 of the seasons is still on the move and soon will pass. 

 There is now a fresh keenness in the early morning 

 air of autumn which makes us think of our guns and 

 dogs. Two coveys of partridges rise near and join, 

 and enter a distant turnip field together. The heavy 

 mists of evening become denser during the night, 

 and now soon after sunrise the distant trees are 

 hidden and those nearer have a misty appearance. 

 Not a leaf is moving. The heavy autumn dew 

 covers grass blades and flowers with myriads of 

 sparkling dewdrops " far brighter than pearls " ; 

 butterflies, bees, and other insects are bedewed with 

 tiny drops of water. Where the sunshine falls on 

 fences, gates, and tree-trunks insects are seen crawling 

 and basking in the warmth, being awakened out of 

 a stupor which, if the weather had been colder, 

 would have meant death. As we walk towards the 

 lake with the sun behind there seems to be a halo 

 of diamonds round our shadow on the grass ; this 

 is more apparent while we move, the dewdrops 

 nearest the shadow seem to throw off a brighter 

 lustre for a moment, then a grass blade here and 

 there seems to be studded with gems more brilliant 

 than genuine stones. Move ever so slightly and the 

 colour is gone and cannot be seen again. Near the 

 lake-side, clumps of candle rush all have a spider's 



