60 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



ing breezes half-way and cap their waves with 

 foam, this is life, the moments snatched from 

 year-long drudgery, that are not to be for- 

 gotten. 



Where in the long summer days I was wont 

 to ramble on foot, seeking the cool shadows or 

 hidden spring of cool and crystal-clear waters, 

 now I go in a different fashion, and not a 

 landmark deigns to greet me. These old trees 

 have withdrawn their friendliness, and I am a 

 stranger among them ; but I will not be re- 

 buffed. There is no wind murmuring in their 

 branches, but the breaking of waves against 

 their sturdy trunks is no less musical. For 

 a while it is more dreamland than reality, but I 

 am called at last to facts that crowd all fancies 

 to the wall. The flood has unsettled the pur- 

 poses of the meadow wild life, and by chance I 

 see that mice, a squirrel, and some ill-defined 

 creature have taken refuge here. They do not 

 make any effort to escape or elude detection, 

 but sit in a philosophical way, waiting for a 

 change in the surroundings ; but what inter- 

 ested me most was to see that when required 

 creatures that live in one place can adapt them- 



