22 PEPACTON 



In the shed where I was sheltered were many 

 relics and odds and ends of the farm. In juxtapo- 

 sition with two of the most stalwart wagon or truck- 

 wheels I ever looked upon, was a cradle of ancient 

 and peculiar make, — an aristocratic cradle, with 

 high-turned posts and an elaborately carved and 

 moulded body, that was suspended upon rods and 

 swung from the top. How I should have liked to 

 hear its history and the story of the lives it had 

 rocked, as the rain sang and the boughs tossed 

 without! Above it was the cradle of a phoebe-bird 

 saddled upon a stick that ran behind the rafter; its 

 occupants had not flown, and its story was easy to 

 read. 



Soon after the first shock of the storm was over, 

 and before I could see breaking sky, the birds 

 tuned up with new ardor, — the robin, the indigo- 

 bird, the purple finch, the song sparrow, and in the 

 meadow below the bobolink. The cockerel near 

 me followed suit, and repeated his refrain till my 

 meditations were so disturbed that I was compelled 

 to eject him from the cover, albeit he had the best 

 right there. But he crowed his defiance with droop- 

 ing tail from the yard in front. I, too, had men- 

 tally crowed over the good fortune of the shower ; 

 but before 1 closed my eyes that night my crest was 

 a good deal fallen, and I could have wished the 

 friendly elements had not squared their accounts 

 quite so readily and uproariously. 



The one shower did not exhaust the supply a bit ; 

 Nature's hand was full of trumps yet, — yea, and 



