AN OCTOBER AFTERNOON 



" Iron sleet of arrowy shower 

 Hurtless in the darken 'd air." — Gray. 



Hunting is not all made up of fast gallops or 

 good hunting runs ending satisfactorily with a 

 kill in the open. August mornings and Sep- 

 tember gallops frequently give way to a long 

 series of indifferent sport — of sport which is not 

 inaptly described as no sport at all. The rising 

 barometer, which has brought in its train that 

 September gallop which served us to talk about 

 for at least three weeks, and which even now 

 brings back happy memories, brought in its 

 train an Indian summer. 



The beauties of an Indian summer are many. 

 There has been a touch of frost strong enough 

 to give us a foretaste of the storms and squalls 

 of winter. We have seen leaden skies, and 

 heard the plash of autumn rains, and then all 



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