The Poetry of Shelter. 113 



of wild life in the rain ? Clear-weather men 

 have grown eloquent over clear-weather birds, 

 but what of the thrush that has sought shelter 

 and the hawk that is soaring above the passing 

 clouds ? What of the fragile insects that were 

 dancing in the sunbeams and will reappear with 

 the returning sunshine ? No naturalist has done 

 full justice to the most commonplace locality. 

 If he would occasionally go abroad with only a 

 pencil and paper and take notes instead of speci- 

 mens, what a brightening would there be of 

 zoological text-books ! The younger men are 

 too eager to increase their collections ; the older 

 men find the work too laborious ; but a change 

 may come, and he who has best made known 

 the habits of every creature we meet will loom 

 up as greatest among naturalists. There is some- 

 thing veiy delightful in seeing a woodpecker 

 put his head out of doors, or a thrush peep 

 from a leafy shelter, to see if the rain is over. 

 It is ludicrous to see a frog poke his nose above 

 the surface of the water, ready to croak again, 

 when bang ! goes a drop of rain on his head, 

 and down he goes into the depths to wait for 

 perhaps another hour. All animal life appears 

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