166 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



rain-soaked mouse is a forlorn object in our 

 sight. We suppose the creature feels our dis- 

 comforts under such conditions, but does it 

 really? One red and black woolly caterpillar 

 kept on its course, twisting in and out among 

 little pools of water, and did not seem affected 

 by the pelting of rain-drops to which it was ex- 

 posed ; but possibly it was muttering to itself 

 as it went along ; growling as much as I did. 

 How next to nothing we know of the mental 

 status of the varied forms of life that daily cross 

 our paths ! Indeed, can we safely say that we 

 know anything ; is it not all inference on our 

 part? 



If only moved to the latter, why not cut the 

 Gordian knot by remaining in-doors ? I write 

 this for the benefit of those who shudder at the 

 mention of a pitiless, cold, driving rain-storm, 

 when every sound is to them a sob and every 

 sudden increase of energy on the part of the 

 wind is accompanied by a piercing shriek or 

 wail of despair. That something of this is a 

 figment of fancy, nourished in ignorance, is cer- 

 tainly true. Not that Nature cannot be serious 

 and deal destruction with a lavish hand ; but, in 



