NOVEMBER 



It is the very carnival of nature, 



The loveliest season that the year can show ! 



The gently sighing breezes, as they blow, 

 Have more than vernal softness. . . . 



BERNARD BARTON. 



THE climate of Northern India is one of 

 extremes. Six months ago European residents 

 were seeking in vain suitable epithets of 

 disapprobation to apply to the weather ; 

 to-day they are trying to discover appropriate 

 words to describe the charm of November. It 

 is indeed strange that no poet has yet sung the 

 praises of the perfect climate of the present 

 month. 



The cold weather of Northern India is not 

 like any of the English seasons. Expressed in 

 terms of the British climate it is a dry summer, 

 warmest at the beginning and the end, in 

 which the birds have forgotten to nest. 



The delights of the Indian winter are enhanced 

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