FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 261 



LI. 



It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 

 Upon the place beneath. 



COULD any simile produce a more defi 

 nite and wholly satisfying picture upon the 

 mind ? All through the morning the words 

 have been singing themselves to me as I 

 worked under shelter with saw and chisel, 

 hammer and nails, securely placing the new 

 foster mother which is to brood over the 

 coming generation of foundlings in my poul 

 try yard. Now more slowly, and now faster, 

 the light patter sounded upon the roof ; the 

 little fluffy bipeds without shook and 

 stretched themselves, and sought shelter 

 from a dispensation to which they were 

 unused, and the clean white elders gathered 

 about and dabbled in a muddy pool which 

 had quickly formed. Corn blades and grass 

 blades glistened after their bath, and the 

 dry earth of the newly tilled field eagerly 

 drank up the welcome drops, for which the 

 grass seed had been waiting for a week. 



