168 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



order. The gentle, assuring breeze from the 

 west ; the splendor of the sunset, painting and 

 gilding every broken cloud ; the melody of the 

 brave birds that sing now on their way to their 

 roosting trees ; the deepening of the shadows ; 

 the fading out of every trace of day ; the soli- 

 tary glory of the evening star ; the rising of 

 the moon and reillumination of the earth and 

 sky, these, in quick succession, follow in the 

 track of the storm, and gladness fills the world 

 that but a few hours before was desolate beyond 

 endurance. No, not quite that, for however 

 wild the storm we come out of it unscathed. 

 We think recklessly when it rains and talk ex- 

 travagantly of another deluge, but why has 

 never been explained. As my journals for 

 many years attest, I have faced more than a 

 hundred northeast storms and am yet alive. 

 Just as I called myself a fool at the outset, 

 shivering and forlorn as I faced the wind and 

 rain, now that it is all a thing of the past, I have 

 no regrets and call myself fortunate. The 

 western sky is one vast sheet of brilliant color. 

 Warm reds and summery green extend over 

 half the heavens. Every rain-drop clinging to 



