114 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



to know better when it is going to rain than 

 when it is going to clear. It is said that the 

 robin is an excellent weather prophet to this 

 extent, but at times he is wofully mistaken. A 

 lull in the storm is supposed to be the end of it, 

 and the woods ring with the bird's premature 

 rejoicing ; and, strange to relate, some people 

 are fooled all their lives by the bird's mistakes, 

 and yet swear to the last that the robin is as safe 

 a guide as the best barometer that man can 

 build. I believe in the robin, but always fortify 

 my belief by carrying an umbrella. 



Here is my last experience in a chance shel- 

 ter, wherein I tarried for two hours, snug as any 

 snail in its shell. I was not tired ; I had not 

 walked a dozen miles that day ; and yet the 

 idea of stopping for a while was not an annoy- 

 ance. My aimless wandering had been through 

 neglected pastures, where the cattle were forced 

 to search for the scanty patches of sweet grass, 

 and in so much of the region as had reverted 

 to Nature's care there was all the charm again 

 of Nature's taste. What though the clouds were 

 gathering? The ground-floor of earth was too 

 attractive for me to explore the attic. Clouds 



