CORN AND BRANS, ETC. 345 



covered up the wounded rock, and three or 

 four saplings have grown from the roots of the 

 blighted tree. 



But the storm we witness from our safe and 

 sheltered homes is often grand beyond descrip- 

 tion. At first, in the distant west, a cloud rises 

 so dark that you can scarcely distinguish it from 

 a blue highland. But a low muttering of thun- 

 der vibrates through the sultry air, and we know 

 what is coming. Soon the afternoon sun is shad- 

 ed, and a deep, unnatural twilight settles upon 

 the landscape, like the shadow of a great sorrow 

 on a face that was smiling a moment before. 

 The thunder grows heavier, like the rumble and 

 roar of an approaching battle. The western 

 arch of the sky is black as night. The eastern 

 arch is bright and sunny, and as you glance from 

 side to side, you cannot but think of those who, 

 comparatively innocent and happy at first, cloud 

 their lives in maturer years with evil and crime, 



