140 THE FLOWER 



beech-leaves was heard in the still night. 

 Then other sounds, faint and far-off in 

 the high trees, foretold the coming of a 

 change. But the autumn clung endear- 

 ingly to her old traditions, and reluctant- 

 ly surrendered her peace. 



The wind that had for so long held 

 back ultimately broke loose with such 

 fury that it seemed as if it had gathered 

 strength and courage while it waited 

 and longed for liberty as the reposeful 

 autumn days went dreamily by. It 

 brought the rain, which beat upon the 

 leaf-strewn earth with a heavy, thrashing 

 sound a wild, disquieting accompani- 

 ment to every lull in the loud tumult 

 of the storm. Branches crashed in the 

 darkness. Lightning fluttered intermit- 

 tently far away, illuminating in the shel- 

 tered places the surf of the driven rain 

 with its thin blue light. 



Next day morning came late, and the 

 muddied brooks were running banks 



