PEP ACTON: A SUMMER VOYAGE. 23 



There is one way, at least, in which the denuding 

 the country of its forests has lessened the rain-fall : in 

 certain conditions of the atmosphere every tree is a 

 great condenser of moisture, as I had just observed in 

 the case of the old elm ; little showers are generated 

 in their branches, and in the aggregate the amount of 

 water precipitated in this way is considerable. Of a 

 foggy summer morning one may see little puddles of 

 water standing on the stones beneath maple-trees, 

 along the street, and in winter, when there is a sud- 

 den change from cold to warm, with fog, the water 

 fairly runs down the trunks of the trees and streams 

 from their naked branches. The temperature of the 

 tree is so much below that of the atmosphere in such 

 cases that the condensation is very rapid. In lieu of 

 these arboreal rains we have the dew upon the grass ; 

 but it is doubtful if the grass ever drips as does a 

 tree. 



The birds, I say, were astir in the morning before 

 I was, and some of them were more wakeful through 

 the night, unless they sing in their dreams. At this 

 season one may hear at intervals numerous bird voices 

 during the night. The wLip-poor-will was piping 

 when I lay down, and I still heard one when I woke 

 up after midnight. I heard the song-sparrow and the 

 kingbird also, like watchers calling the hour, and sev- 

 eral times I heard the cuckoo. Indeed, I am con- 

 rinced that our cuckoo is to a considerable extent a 

 uight bird, and that he moves about freely from tree 

 to 'ree. His peculiar gutturai note, now here, now 



