A SUMMER STROLL. 



shallow valley. A wood-pigeon, alarmed at 

 his alarm, flapped afield from the pinewood ; 

 the low cooing of his fellows from the larches 

 beyond died away at the sound of his warn- 

 ing signal. Then we turned into the middle 

 trail, where it dips towards the lowland. 



All at once Elsie started, and gave a little 

 cry " A fox ! a fox ! " And, sure enough, 

 there was one. He ran on before us, with 

 his red brush depressed, fifty yards or more 

 along the path on the open. Seldom have 

 I caught a longer or clearer view of him 

 unhunted in England. We were but ten 

 yards behind, and had fairly surprised him. 

 However, he took his discovery like a 

 gentleman, and instead of skulking away 

 to right or left, where the heath rose high, 

 he ran on along the open, so as to give 

 us a fine stare at him. Lucy, who is a 

 visitor, unused to country ways, save as 

 townsfolk know them, had never seen a 

 live fox in the wild state before, and the 

 incident charmed her. He was so lithe and 

 133 



