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[Page 61]

3
My friend Saint has gone out house hunting at church Knoll near Corfe Castle.

I joined him for a while and a half of the walk and enjoyed the scenery of the moorlands when sunrise and heather maintain a natural wildness quite refreshing.

The ground is hard and glassy. Nature is mantled in white and enriched with glittering gems of ice

Mans breath is like smoke in the air, and his cheeks like rosy apples.
But this is Hardy's country, his books will tell you all, and better than I can

As my yet tender feet may not stand the rough walks I must not go far today, so leave Saint to wander on alone

This man Saint, is a gentleman. He has an aunt living in a fine old house away up in Kent. The aunt is one of

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