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Like Sir Drawing In More, a couple of weeks ago, I read A Halloween Tale, and tonight, I'll

be reading some autumn stories to you. A collection of folk tales and fairy tales. I really hope you

enjoy it. And that's begin. Prince Autumn, on the top of the hills in the west, stood the

prince of autumn, and surveyed the land with his serious eyes. His hair and beard was dushed

with grey, and there were wrinkles on his forehead. But he was good to look at, still and straight

and strong. His splendid cloak gleamed red and green, and brown and yellow, and flat in the wind.

In his hand, he held a horn. He smiled sadly and took a while and listened to the fighting,

a mousing in, and the cries. Then he raised his head for the horn to his mouth, and blue a lusty

flourish. Summer goes his all-prospring way. Autumn's horn is calling. Havard dresses the

brown hill clay, winds with crackling across the bay. Thieves in the grave keep falling.

All the trees of the forest shook from root to top, themselves not knowing why. All the birds

fell silent together. The stack in the glade raised his antlers in surprise and listened. The

bobbies scored petals, flew before the wind, but high on the mountains and on the bay hills,

and load out in the fog. The heavy burst forth, and blazed purple and glorious in the sun.

And the bees flew from the faded flowers of the meadow, and hit themselves in the heavy

fields. But Autumn put his horn to his mouth again and blue. Autumn lords it with banners bright,

...