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 *scented pine-woods with open spaces here and there given over to a little forest of waving bracken, green, red, and yellow, in all the loveliness of their autumn tints. At the foot of the descent we found a charming little hamlet set in woods, past which a clear stream purled peacefully; crossing this stream we had another climb succeeded by a level winding elm-bound road, with an uneventful landscape on either hand, of flat fields stretching far away to a misty horizon. Now the rounded chalk hills loomed up finely in front of us, the clouds stooping to their low summits, so that it was hard to tell where the land ended and the sky began; and in the fast-fading light a sense of mystery and the majesty of space pervaded the prospect. Our road eventually led us along the sides of these hills and into the gathering gloom, then we dropped down into the cheerful lamp-lighted streets of busy Luton. From Luton we drove through picturesque Harpenden to historic St. Albans, with its much-restored abbey, and from St. Albans by Elstree and Edgeware we made our way back to London again. And so ended our most enjoyable wanderings on the pleasant old roads. Ours was purely a pleasure jaunt. We set forth on it determined, come what would, to enjoy ourselves, and we succeeded! Now, kind reader, the time has come when I must, perforce, bid you farewell.

Of all the words the English tongue can tell The hardest one to utter is "Farewell." But the fond hope that we may meet again Relieves that word of more than half its pain.