148 BOULDER REVERIES. 



and not be eaten is, then, the one great idea or 

 instinct, possessed by these wild fellow-crea- 

 tures of mine, and second to it nay first, at 

 times to meet, to woo, to mate. 



XXXIV. 



July 23, '05. Nature has her own time and 

 mood for doing things. It matters not though 

 the protests of a million men be on record, rain 

 it will when the conditions are ripe and nature 

 is ready. Two weeks ago to-day a rain, slow- 

 falling, never ceasing, prevented an outing. To- 

 day, again, clouds dull and gray hide from 

 sight the blue. Rain has fallen, threatens again 

 to fall, yet for at least a brief interval I greet 

 my boulders, whose spirits no rain ever damp- 

 ens, whose bulk, no rain ever lessens, and ask, 

 nay implore them to inspire my cerebral cells to 

 action. 



Along the pathways of the kine, between here 

 and the old farm-house, a never ceasing struggle 

 goes on between the blue-grass and several forms 

 of lowly weeds. The grass succeeds in most 

 places, but where too much trampled by the feet 



