57 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE WOOD. 



Beneath the verdurous canopy, how sweet 



To muse awhile, weaving delicious thought 



In Fancy's fairy bower ! H. i. j. 



IN thus taking refuge from the rain under the 

 shelter of a tree, like this noble oak which over- 

 shadows us, there is a pleasure which I can neither 

 describe nor account for. The air is perfectly 

 still, and, to judge from the increased and constant 

 pattering of the drops on the broad overhanging 

 leaves, the rain is falling very smartly. But the 

 blackbird, and the woodlark mind it as little as we 

 do ; they are chanting away merrily enough. 

 Not an insect is to be seen ; fly, bee, and butterfly, 

 have all been guided by an instinct that never 

 deceives them, to take refuge in some place of 

 security. A few gnats only are performing a fan- 

 tastic dance in the air, being possessed, it would 

 seem, of the power of eluding the drops. 



Nature is apparently as much refreshed with 

 the cool sprinkling which she is undergoing, as we 

 should be with a sea-breeze on a sultry day in 

 July. We cannot yet venture forth from our 

 hiding place, but we may, even here, find some- 

 thing to amuse, and probably to instruct us. 



The ground in the immediate vicinity of the 



