A NOVEMBER WALK. 
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ceives eacli Avith thankfulness, while, looking forward beyond the 
coming snows, he sees another spring, and prepares with trustful 
hope for that brighter season. 
Half an hour's walk upon a familiar track brought us to a gate 
opening into an old by-road which leads over the hills to the little 
village where we were bound ; it was formerly the highway, but 
a more level track has been opened, and this is now abandoned, 
or only used as a foot-path. These lanes are charming places for 
a walk ; there are cross-roads enough about the country in every 
direction, but they are all pretty well travelled, and it is a pleasant 
variety, once in a while, to follow a silent by-way like this, which 
is never dusty, and always quiet. It carried us first over a rough, 
open hill-side, used as a sheep-pasture ; a large flock were nib- 
bling upon the scraps of the summer's grass among the withered 
mulleins ; we went quietly on our way, but as usual, our approach 
threw the simple creatures into a panic, disturbing their noon-day 
meal. 
Having reached the brow of a hill, we turned to enjoy the view ; 
the gray meadows of the valley lay at our feet, and cattle were 
feeding in many of them. At this season the flocks and herds 
become a more distinct feature of the landscape than during the 
leafy luxuriance of summer : the thickets and groves no longer 
conceal them, and they turn from the sheltered spots to seek the 
sunshine of the open fields, where their forms rise in full and 
warm relief upon the fading herbage. The trees have nearly lost 
their leaves, now scattered in russet showers, about their roots, 
while the branches are drawn in shadowy lines by the autumn 
sun upon the bleached grass and withering foliage with which it 
is strewn. The woods are not absolutely bare, however, there are 
