A WIND-STORM IN THE FORESTS 257 



on the slopes of the hills like a devout audience. 

 The setting sun filled them with amber light, and 

 seemed to say, while they listened, " My peace I 

 give unto you." 



As I gazed on the impressive scene, all the so- 

 called ruin of the storm was forgotten, and never 

 before did these noble woods appear so fresh, so 

 joyous, so immortal. 



