Letter XXIII
To The Honourable Daines Barrington
Selborne, June 8, 1775.
Dear Sir,
On September the 21st, 1741, being then on a visit, and intent on
field-diversions, I rose before daybreak: when I came into the
enclosures, I found the stubbles and clover-grounds matted all over
with a thick coat of cobweb, in the meshes of which a copious and
heavy dew hung so plentifully that the whole face of the country
seemed, as it were, covered with two or three setting-nets drawn
one over another. When the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were
so blinded and hoodwinked that they could not proceed, but were
obliged to lie down and scrape the incumbrances from their faces
with their fore-feet, so that, finding my sport interrupted, I returned
home musing in my mind on the oddness of the occurrence.
As the morning advanced the sun became bright and warm, and the
day turned out one of those most lovely ones which no season but
the autumn produces; cloudless, calm, serene, and worthy of the
South of France itself.
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