QQ 



Now the sun shines, not faint and watery, 

 but with true summer heat. The whole 

 world is vivified. Flowers laugh out in the 

 hedge-rows; leaves whisper in the soft air 

 overhead. And there is Master Red-bird 

 taking his bath in the tiny pool that has 

 gathered in a hoof-mark beside the road. 

 Odd that such a drenching has not given 

 him water enough. He has plenty of com- 

 pany. Nearly every track has an occupant 

 splashing in its tiny depths or preening his 

 feathers upon the brink. Here sit a pair 

 of ruby-throats flowers of air aperch on 

 a dead twig, oiling and arranging their wet 

 green coats. There the oriole flashes black 

 and yellow, with the scarlet tanager and in- 

 digo-bird calmly looking down from their 

 crab-apple fastness, where, year after year, 

 they rear their young undisturbed. Stolen 

 waters are sweet. Perhaps that is why the 

 birds make haste to use these little pools. 

 They know somehow that they will not en- 

 dure. Even now they are sinking into the 

 thirsty land. The grass lies warm and dry 

 underfoot. The air is like wine. A won- 

 derful world, new and fresh, smiles back to 

 the sunlight. " There was rain to-day." 



