hedgerow, and she knows from his questing that there is a hare
afoot. See, she has caught that nut just before it touched the
water; but the water would have been no defence,--she fishes them
from the bottom, she delves after them amongst the matted grass--
even my bonnet--how beggingly she looks at that! 'Oh, what a
pleasure nutting is!--Is it not, May? But the pockets are almost
full, and so is the basket-bonnet, and that bright watch the sun
says it is late; and after all it is wrong to rob the poor boys--is
it not, May?'--May shakes her graceful head denyingly, as if she
understood the question--'And we must go home now--must we not? But
we will come nutting again some time or other--shall we not, my
May?'



THE VISIT.

October 27th.--A lovely autumnal day; the air soft, balmy, genial;
the sky of that softened and delicate blue upon which the eye loves
to rest,--the blue which gives such relief to the rich beauty of the
earth, all around glowing in the ripe and mellow tints of the most
gorgeous of the seasons. Really such an autumn may well compensate
our English climate for the fine spring of the south, that spring of
which the poets talk, but which we so seldom enjoy. Such an autumn
glows upon us like a splendid evening; it is the very sunset of the
year; and I have been tempted forth into a wider range of enjoyment
than usual. This WALK (if I may use the Irish figure of speech
called a bull) will be a RIDE. A very dear friend has beguiled me
into accompanying her in her pretty equipage to her beautiful home,
four miles off; and having sent forward in the style of a running