AUTUMN. 169 



deeper tint, every day revealing change of 

 hue a russet brown that tells of decay 

 creeping over all, and when the first touch of 

 frost comes the leaves tremble and shake, and, 

 parting from the branches, fall fluttering to the 

 ground those of the chestnut, ash, and plane 

 tree being the first to go. 



" The flush of the landscape is o'er, 



The brown leaves are shed on the way ; 

 The dye of the lone mountain flower 

 Grows wan and betokens decay." 



In the gloamin' the rays of the departing sun 

 linger on the western sky a conflagration of 

 colours, the sun glowing like molten metal. Can 

 there be anything grander than the fiery 

 splendour of an autumnal sunset ? The shadows 

 of the trees lengthen with the declining sun, and 

 the "haar" begins to creep up from the valley, 

 shutting out the river and the whole of the low- 

 lying ground. The Partridges are calling to each 

 other from the stubbles on the other side of the 

 hedge, and the Wood Owl has begun to hoot. 

 As the shadows of night deepen, no sound is 



