There is a poignantly autumnal feeling in this little boy's description of his grandfather's country cabin. On a Minnesota hill, nearby a crooked pond, stands grandpa's one room wooden house. Here the narrator and his brother come to visit their grandpa and in the cold November weather, snug inside the gaslit room, watch the old man prepare for the hunt. Someday they too will set out in the little flat bottom boat and there among the reeds in the shallow water will level their shot guua at the low flying birds. Not very much happens here, but considerable detail of the duck hunting sport is fitted into this somewhat somber study of November.