JULY. 119 



leaves of the birch and aspen vibrate upon their slender 

 stems, and the tops of the tall pines bend and creak 

 before it ; the birds have ceased their calls and taken 

 refuge among the trees and underwood ; the mono- 

 tonous caw ! caw ! of the rooks is heard overhead, as 

 they hurry home from their feeding-grounds ; the sky, 

 erewhile so intensely blue, has become covered with 

 one mass of leaden clouds — all animated nature seems 

 hushed, not a sound is heard save the croak of the 

 frog from his marshy covert, or the song of the black- 

 bird, or the storm-cock (Turdus viscivorus) from the 

 top of yonder elm— save these sounds all is still — 

 pat ! pat ! pat ! fall the large drops of rain upon the 

 leaves overhead, at first slowly and in measured time, 

 then faster, faster still, until the clouds pour forth their 

 burden in continuous streams — the frogs croak the 

 louder — the storm-cock shouts peto ! peto ! peto ! more 

 energetically than ever, as if exulting in the deluge of 

 waters, when suddenly the clouds open, the forked 

 lightning descends, cleaving in twain in its course yon 

 noble oak, while the artillery of Heaven shakes the 

 firmament. * * * * The rain relaxes in its vio- 

 lence, the clouds break up and move slowly before the 

 wind, and the blue sky appears again — the sun shines 

 in his splendour, his rays, refracted by the rain-drops 

 on every leaf and branch, convert them into spark- 

 ling gems —the birds forsake their leafy sanctuary — 

 the dragon fly and kingfisher are again darting over 

 the brook — the pimpernel has ope'd her scarlet eye — 

 the hum of the bee is again heard — the skylark rising 

 from the corn pours forth floods of melody — hundreds 

 of young frogs are skipping about in all directions, 



