r little story,
and the milking is over!)--there he stands--holding her milk-pail in
one hand, and stroking Watch with the other; whilst she is returning the
compliment by patting Neptune's magnificent head. There they stand,
as much like lovers as may be; he smiling, and she blushing--he never
looking so handsome nor she so pretty in all their lives. There they
stand, in blessed forgetfulness of all except each other; as happy
a couple as ever trod the earth. There they stand, and one would not
disturb them for all the milk and butter in Christendom. I should not
wonder if they were fixing the wedding day.

THE FALL OF THE LEAF.

November 6th.--The weather is as peaceful to-day, as calm, and as
mild, as in early April; and, perhaps, an autumn afternoon and a spring
morning do resemble each other more in feeling, and even in appearance,
than any two periods of the year. There is in both the same freshness
and dewiness of the herbage; the same balmy softness in the air; and the
same pure and lovely blue sky, with white fleecy clouds floating
across it. The chief difference lies in the absence of flowers, and the
presence of leaves. But then the foliage of November is so rich, and
glowing, and varied, that it may well supply the place of the gay
blossoms of the spring; whilst all the flowers of the field or the
garden could never make amends for the want of leaves,--that beautiful
and graceful attire in which nature has clothed the rugged forms of
trees--the verdant drapery to which the landscape owes its loveliness,
and the forests their glory.

If choice must be between two seasons, each so full of charm, it is at
least no bad philosophy to prefer the present good, even whilst looking
gratefully back, and hopefully forward, to the past and the future. And
of a surety, no fairer specimen of a November day could well be found
than this,--a day made to wander

'By yellow commons and birch-shaded hollows,
And hedgerows bordering unfrequented lanes;'

nor could a prettier country be found for our walk than this shady and
yet sunny Berkshire, where the scenery, without rising into grandeur or
breaking into wildness, is so peaceful, so cheerful, so varied, and so
thoroughly English.

We must bend our steps towards the water side, for I have a message
to leave at Farmer Riley's: and sooth to say, it is no unpleasant
necessity; for the road thither is smooth and dry, retired, as one
likes a country walk